Angseth
by Cheshire Kat24
Summary: Twenty years after the Aether incident, Angseth, the sole survivor, is now a battle cruiser captain on the verge of retirement. A routine mission uncovers evidence of an intergalactic conspiracy that only Samus Aran can unravel. But the Hunter is missing, and Angseth will risk everything she holds dear to find Aran and set the galaxy right.
1. Chapter 1

**Angseth**

Chapter 1

The elevator clicked away the floors with polite almost silent beeps. The only indications of motion in the small room were distant mechanical vibrations from larger machines in the station. The carpet under her feet had been embellished with the insignia of the Galactic Confederation. It gave disgruntled commanders and cadets alike the momentary satisfaction of stepping on an intergalactic symbol of authority. Angseth stood as she always had, since she first had the privilege of standing in one of these elevators, dead-center of the insignia, wings extending from the ball of each foot, spreading across the blue and white symbol. She stood patiently, the lights seemed to vibrate and pulse with their own flow of energy, creating a low humming noise that was just this side of tolerable.

Phantom limb was back again. The pain always returned when she became tense. Her brain vainly sending signals to nerves that were no longer there, and some ingrained instinct in the back of her mind was telling the rest of her body that something must be wrong with that leg. Something had been wrong with that leg for over ten years now. If she listened to the pain, Angseth would be convinced that her leg was imbedded with spikes and trying to push through the floor. She shifted her weight, her cybernetic leg pressed up against the thin fabric of her dress blues. The phantom limb faded away a little, the pins and needles feeling lessened. She had a replacement leg back on her ship that was more comfortable, but this one had less girth and weight so it didn't appear to be such an eyesore under her dress uniform.

The elevator was blissfully quiet, no sappy music, no other riders, just herself, the white metallic walls and the Galactic Confederation insignia on the floor. This made her feel a little better, it allowed for the opportunity to steel herself against the coming political cluster fuck that was going to be the remainder of her evening. The elevator began to emit a low whine-like noise, the breaking mechanisms had been engaged and the elevator would soon pick up another passenger. If Angseth was lucky she could make her face appear as disgruntled as possible and her would-be companions would be frightened into taking another elevator.

The elevator came to a stop and the doors hissed open. Angseth could hear a slight ring as her ears popped when the pressure equalized. The face on the other side was familiar, and welcome. Angseth felt her bitterness melt as her companion joined her in the room and the doors closed.

"Good evening Captain. That scowl could have shattered glass."

"That was the impression I was aiming for Lieutenant." Angseth replied, her voice deep for a human female, yet holding that certain air of authority she had been trained for. She shifted her weight again, leaning on her cane to help maintain her balance. Perhaps…perhaps they would leave her alone tonight. Perhaps they wouldn't insist on hearing her life's story at the reception, or want to see the scars the past had left on her psyche.

"I didn't expect we would have been invited to this wedding. I barely even know either the bride or groom."

"That doesn't matter. All that matters is that we show up and look presentable. Military weddings must be the worst."

"Presentable? My Captain doesn't look very comfortable in her dress uniform."

"I'm not. It's too tight across the chest and I feel as if I will burst out of it any moment now."

"Didn't you have time to have it altered?"

"This is after it was altered."

Lieutenant Briar lifted his clawed hands in surrender. He could pick at his Captain only so much before she snapped. But he couldn't resist one last jab. "I thought they required all female officers to wear a dress. I wouldn't mind seeing you in one."

"I have no dress strong enough to withstand the pressure from my cybernetic leg."Angseth replied, his statement missing her entirely. "Even though I'm wearing the lighter one. The only setback is that since I haven't broken it in yet I still walk with a bit of a limp."

"Hence the cane."

Angseth nodded in agreement. Lieutenant Nevada Briar was her second in command as well as the chief security officer aboard her battle ship. He came from a world that had joined the Confederation about fifteen years ago. The people were cat-like with a few differences. Briar had feline-like features with slit amber colored eyes, his ears rested toward the back of his skull and were made a stiff cartilage that resembled bone more than soft tissue. When he pinned them back it they seemed to vanish entirely. His body was covered with mostly course fur with small patches of plate-like scales at his elbows, knees, and along his spine. His hands and feet had non-retractable claws that had to be trimmed or ground down on a monthly basis.

The elevator began politely beeping away the floors once more. Angseth and Briar stood for a moment in comfortable silence when he spoke up again.

"Do you know of any new orders once the wedding is over?"

"Not as of yet. Is patrol of the Outer Reaches boring you?"

"Yes…and no." Briar said folding his arms. "Life on a station is amusing at most, however I feel that our time could be better spent than attending weddings."

Angseth tried to stop the smile from crossing her lips, but failed. Lieutenant Briar had read her mind. He wanted off this hunk of metal more than she did. "Admiral Mirson has invited us to see his third daughter wed. All this is only a formality. We will be underway again in the next seventy two hours. Then the two of us can go back to counting the nebulae and quasars and other untouchable universal phenomenon."

Briar gave an audible sigh. "Seventy two hours to kill. You are so generous Captain Angseth."

Angseth shifted her weight again, already wishing this day was over.

* * *

The bride, as with all brides, was beautiful. The bridesmaids stood in a row, arranged by height, all of equal shape, and perfectly complementing the groomsmen. The groom was nervous, his groomsmen seemed to be consumed by that tense laughter of young boys told to be quiet, sit still, and behave for a few minutes. That was one of the only comparisons that Angseth had for them. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that they were like a platoon of cadets that had just narrowly missed their first incoming shell attack and even though they had lost one of their own, still giggled madly in that they survived.

Angseth and her officers sat near the back of the chapel, in the middle of one of the many pews lining this traditional hall. Angseth felt that in all the years that humans had been out conquering the universe, why couldn't they just knock their heads together and make a more comfortable bench? Lieutenant Briar sat at her right and her chief engineering officer, Lieutenant Serec, sat on her left. They were both as quiet and uncomfortable as she. Neither of them wanted to be here. Watching people they didn't know say their "I do's" the flowers, the lights, it all seemed too much. Especially after getting back from patrol on the Outer Reaches. Through most of the ceremony she had seen her two officers out of the corner of her eye shuffling around in their seats. Briar seemed to have the worst of it since he had to sit at a certain angle to allow for his tail to rest comfortably. Aside from the shifting, to the other guests they seemed like a matching row of Moai, each sharing a stoic and identical expression.

The music had stopped and now the pastor was going into a sermon about loyalty in love. Angseth began to tune it out; she didn't need a lecture on loyalty. Instead she amused herself the way she normally did in these situations, she meditated. She searched all the faces in the room, all eyes were on the bride. At the end of each aisle someone had placed a large bouquet of flowers. No, flowers would not do this time. She searched the floor at her feet, then finally pulled her cane closer, shifting her weight again. Topping her cane was a large piece of black quartz carved and sanded into a smooth sphere. She stared into the black depths, no flaws or specks present to catch the light. Lights and flowers reflected on its surface, hovering over the pit of darkness within the sphere. The light caught it at an odd angle, for a moment creating what looked like a purple glow.

Purple. Dark Purple. A room filled with dark purple stones.

Angseth quickly averted her eyes, then lifted a hand to cover her face. She hoped it looked like she was crying for joy. However the ruse didn't convince her officers. Aside from shifting, this was the most she had moved in the whole ceremony.

"Captain?" Serec inquired.

"I'm alright." Angseth let her hand fall away. "Just a mild flashback."

Serec nodded but exchanged a concerned glance with Briar. He then faced the front of the chapel, seemingly interested in the ceremony. But his question was directed toward Angseth. "How is the leg?"

"Uncomfortable." Angseth closed her eyes trying to let her mind clear. If she didn't calm soon the nausea would do it for her. Behind her someone wept softly. Thankfully her leg had stopped aching the moment she took her weight off of it.

"—You may now kiss the Bride."

Angseth looked up at that moment to see the brides veil lifted. Before she had just been some lace-covered ghost from this distance, but now she could see the brides blue eyes and blond hair. Angseth looked down at her cane again, recovered, then looked back up at the bride.

Yes, blond hair, but brown eyes. Not green, not blue, due to the way this day was going, not even purple.

_ Why do I keep thinking of you?_

"Captain?"

Angseth took in a few deep breaths as the guests cheered. She didn't feel like celebrating, she didn't feel like being here. The organ started up and the Captain barely noticed the bride and groom skip past her row. The congregation stood and began filing out of the chapel.

Angseth didn't stand. The room felt too small with too many people. Briar stayed at her side supporting her the way one would a sick child. Serec stood and began fencing questions. "No, the Captain is fine," and "yes we will be there."

Briar whispered close to Angseths ear. "Vera, would you like me to escort you back to your room?"

Angseth shook her head. "No, I promised Mirson that I would attend the reception."

"It isn't mandatory."

"If you two wish to leave then I won't hold it against you." Angseth snapped, trying to regain some sense of control. She leaned on her cane and let her head rest on the back of her knuckles. She didn't need any more memories of Aether tonight. No, tonight it wouldn't be the other CO's to try to get under her skin, she was her own worst enemy in this respect. She braced herself and pulled herself upright. Her cybernetic leg came out of sleep mode to help her correct her balance. Briar stayed at her side helping her to her feet and led her through the crunch of guests trying to leave the chapel.

_ Samus Aran. How many years has it been?_

* * *

The reception hall was loud and noisy even before most of the guests had made it inside. Briar stayed at Angseths side, leading her through the crowds after the dizziness she had felt in the chapel passed. Eventually the small walk-way they traveled opened up and she stepped into the main hall. Angseth had been in this hall once before almost 10 years ago now. When she stood before Admiral Mizzen as he placed her pilot wings on her dress uniform. The hall was different now, filled with more people but still teeming with all the sounds and smells that came with celebrating. She shook Briar loose, then found a balcony to stand near. The balcony overlooked the main dance floor where men in uniform and ladies in multicolored dresses bounced along to music. From previous experience the hall would take her a moment to adjust to.

Most of the ceiling and one wall was transparent. Either it was created from skillfully crafted glass, or a field of some kind was in place. The windows gave a clear and stunning view of the planet below. Syren crested just below the rim of the glass, casting a blue glow against the darkness of space. This view was enough to give her vertigo the first time she set foot in here. Now that she had a moment to enjoy it, she could adjust. Angseth just had to remember not to look up for the rest of the night. Briar stood at her side, admiring the view along with her.

Tables had been set out on the many levels of the room, each with a centerpiece of fragrant flowers taken from the four corners of the universe. Even from this height Angseth could spot her favorites, rare "Lilies of the night" cast bio-luminescent multicolored shapes on the tables.

"Enjoying the view?"

"Very much. But Mirson will have my ass if I don't go down there and rub elbows with some of his friends." Angseth reached for Briars arm again and tore her gaze away from the high ceiling.

"Do I get to pretend to be your date this evening?"

"Might as well. Can't hide forever." Angseth gave him a smile, and began walking toward the nearest elevator to take them down to the base level. This elevator had transparent walls that provided a view of the whole room as she traveled. This didn't bother Angseth as much as the view from the top balcony. She could however make out her own reflection in the glass.

Angseth was never very happy with her physical appearance. As humans went, she was short. Standing at a grand total of five feet four inches. She was also stocky, very unattractive for human females. She hailed from a heavy world that had higher gravity than normal planets, so her muscles were nicely toned, however it was considered too manly for most human standards. Her hair was cut short, as per regulation, however she kept just enough length to give it body. More than once she had been mistaken for a man, and she knew of all the rumors and names they called her behind her back. However none of them could fly or shoot like she could, a skill she kept up even as the years went on. Briar often told her that humans were too critical, and she was perfect and beautiful in his eyes, and for the most part, not too many alien races cared about her appearance. Since there were over two hundred recognized different sentient species that were members of the Confederation, Briar insisted that one races standards of beauty could not over-ride all. Angseth had often rolled her eyes at this, especially when one of her new human cadets would call out "Hey mister!—oh shit it's the captain."

They stepped out of the elevator and onto the ground floor. Directly in front of her was a set of stairs that led to the dance floor. People danced as the live band was just getting started. Angseth maneuvered her way through the tables and crowds. Briar had split off and was going his own way. Angseth headed for the bride, the most easily noticed landmark in the room. Angseth would congratulate her, say hello to Mirson, then hopefully be on her way before anyone noticed that she had left. As long as Mirson was alone, then she stood a chance, if he had friends, he would want to start bragging. Twenty steps away from the bride, almost there…

"Angseth!"

Angseth froze in her tracks, trying not to let the disgust fill her eyes.

Admiral Mirson called out to her again, surrounded by no less than five other men. All human.

"Admiral," Angseth forced a smile to her lips, then began taking exaggerated limping steps over toward him. If he saw that she was in pain, perhaps he would let her go, perhaps she could politely duck out and get some sleep in her room.

"I'm so happy you could make it."

Angseth gave up all hopes of escape. His companions looked too pleased with themselves. Story-time everyone! She stepped forward and shook the Admirals hand. "Your daughter is absolutely radiant! Congratulations!" The group closed around her like an ameba with its latest prey. All eyes fell upon her.

"Gentlemen, I'd like to introduce Captain Angseth. The sole survivor of the Aether incident." He set his hand on her shoulder and displayed her to the group like some kind of trophy.

_ I might as well have that changed to my official title. "Captain Angseth, the Sole Survivor of the Aether Incident" _Angseth thought bitterly. _I wonder how much it would cost to have that engraved on my leg._ She scanned the faces and shook hands all around. She felt cheated, she knew most of these men. They had all heard the story before. However two of them she didn't recognize. They were sizing her up, and she returned the favor. One of them she could place right away, a scientist from Rovien. He was tall, easily six feet nine inches, which meant that if she were to look him in the eye, she had took look up. He had long white hair and red eyes, an albino….or a clone. The second man was also a human male about five foot nine, roughly Briars height now that she thought about it. He had blue eyes and dark brown hair, not an entirely unattractive combination. He also appeared to be very young. Early twenties. Perhaps he was an Ensign that the Admiral was fond of.

The Admiral was an older gentleman, thin and thinning white hair combed over almost perpetually red skin that grew redder the angrier he became. In her younger years Angseth had placed bets with men in her fighter wing to see who could get him to turn the darkest shade. Angseth won everytime. The Admiral also had small brown eyes, he looked like someone whom you expected to die any day now but through some miracle or cosmic joke was still around year after year. Angseth didn't like his eyes. They pierced, scrutinized and most of all, were hard to read. Right now he seemed to be happy, but the shade of his skin told her otherwise. Code Orange.

"Captain Angseth I would like to introduce you to Captain Thomas, and Science Officer Svenson. Gentlemen, this is Captain Angseth."

"Captain Angseth." Thomas, Mr. Brown-hair and blue-eyes held his hand out to her. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you. I have wanted to ask you so many questions about Aether and of course your studies of the bounty hunter Samus Aran."

"I'm afraid there is isn't much to tell Captain Thomas." She scanned his eyes and body again. Captain? A nickname? There was nothing about him that spoke of the rank "captain" save for the twin white bars on his uniform.

Captain Thomas didn't seem to notice her rebuttal. His blue eyes were alive with excitement. This boy was young. Early twenties, and probably had never seen a moment of real combat in his life.

S.O. Svenson had been quiet this whole time, his arms folded and red eyes scanning the room nervously. The other officers that been accompanying Mirson had let for the time, and Svenson seemed to be keeping a subtle eye on them. Angseth found her attention drawn back to Thomas. Mirson stood behind Thomas, his face no longer reading pleasure but that usual scowl Angseth had become accustomed to. That look was a warning. She would comply with his desires or feel his wrath.

"Is it true you fought alongside The Hunter?" Captain Thomas still drilled at her, sipping from his glass of champagne.

Between this young man's insistence and the disapproving scowl from the Admiral, Angseth felt the smile fade from her lips. She was tired of telling this story, a summary would probably keep this boy happy for weeks, although it would not sit well enough with the Admiral.

"I did not work alongside Aran. I was a young Private who had just had my first experience with an interspatial anomaly. If it were not for The Hunter, I would be dead. She was the one who single-handedly dealt with the Pirates and the Ing, returning the light to Aether. I could only follow in her wake."

"Amazing to think that you lived to tell the tale." S.O. Svenson interjected. "You lived to tell it over and over again. How I pity you Captain." His tone didn't hold much conviction. He didn't seem to be happy to be here either. His arms dropped to his sides, then went around to behind his back. It was a gesture that Angseth had become familiar with, her own hands never left the small of her back except when she was carrying something. Thomas was smiling like an idiot. "However I personally feel that Aran is no more pious than the pirates she fights. The civilized world had no need for vigilantes."

"And that is the only thing we can disagree upon Svenson." Angseth felt her voice raise in volume just slightly. Svenson had touched a nerve. "Samus Aran is one of the rare forces of nature that this universe must accept. And as with all forces beyond our control, we can only choose to live with it, to fight it brings only suffering."

"What a poetic statement." Svenson snickered. Obviously amused by this outcome.

"I only speak of what I have seen, and have come to know in my years as a Captain in the Confederation." Angseth looked between Thomas and Svenson, neatly perched in the middle behind them was Mirson. His face had turned that now familiar bright red color. Angseth knew that she had better make a speedy retreat before the Admiral erupted. "I'm sorry but I must leave you now. Gentlemen. Admiral, congratulations." She turned, leaning on her cane even more to pull off such a tight turn. This leg would be thrown to the bottom of her footlocker as soon as she arrived back at her room, never to be seen or heard from again.

"Angseth." Admiral Mirson called out to her.

Angseth paused, looking over her shoulder at Mirson.

"I wish to speak with you tomorrow, at 1100 hours."

"I will be there sir." Angseth searched the room for Briar, who was perched against the bar, sipping some bright red concoction. She walked toward him, using the cane to smooth out her gate.

"Bitter isn't she?" Svenson commented once Angseth was out of earshot.

"Did she loose that leg on Aether?" Thomas asked.

Mirson grabbed a glass of champagne, his face regaining some normal color. "Don't let her fool you. Angseth is one of the better battleship captains available to the Seven Fleet Admirals. She will be more than meet your expectations." He sipped the champagne. "She didn't loose her right leg on Aether. That was lost in an accident involving her fighter."

"I would like to read more on her. She seems like an admirable woman." Thomas set his glass down.

Svenson watched as Briar took Angseth's arm and led her out of the hall. "She seems to be rather close to her Lieutenant."

"She is." Mirson replied. "I've told her not to make herself to noticeable while she is here, rather disgusting."

"Indeed."

Mirson set the champagne down and addressed the men. "Good evening gentlemen, I hope you enjoy the remainder of your stay."

* * *

Angseth sat in front of a holo-screen, watching random events and the occasional cheap game show that broadcast on the stations TV signals. Everything was just as boring as she remembered. She never understood how so many people could find entertainment value in all of this. She lifted the remote and turned off the holo-screen. Sleeping was not going to be easy tonight. Between the pain in her leg and the slowly rising memories of her time on Aether, all she could do was hobble around her suite and hope that exhaustion would kick in. That was harder to do without Briar there.

Vera stood from her chair, and grabbed her cane. She had taken off the cybernetic leg, and still hadn't put the other one on yet. The cane would help her get around for the time.

_ Why do all these memories come at the most inappropriate times? Why all these horrible dreams?_

She limped into the kitchen, and began to sift through the cabinets looking for a glass.

_ Twenty years ago. For so many years I've had that experience hovering over my head like an ax. In the past few days my thoughts and dreams have been clouded with memories of Ing and Phazon. I want to know how much is triggered by stress, and how much are real concerns._

She found a glass and began running the water on the tap. The glass filled and she turned the water off. She lifted the glass and held it to her lips, the smell of chemicals drifted from the cup. Chemicals used to purify and remove all other forms of life from the water so that she may use it. She slowly forced herself to drink. Immediately her stomach began to churn, the combined smell and taste of fluoride, plasteel from the pipes, all traces and residue present in the water. She lowered the glass and tried to calm her gag reflex.

_ I remember…the water from Torvus Bog was smooth. It smelled of life. Aether was pure, the plants were dangerous, and so were the animals, but they were still alive, they thought, lived, and breathed._

There was nothing in the room save for the hum of electricity all around her, the taste of iron in her mouth, heavy chemical-laden water in her stomach. Angseth turned to walk back into her bedroom, then quickly turned back to the sink. Her body convulsed then forced up the water from her stomach. For a moment she stood gagging until her muscles stopped tensing. She reached for a paper towel to wipe her mouth. The electric hum of the room built in her ears. White noise.

Angseth stood up, then looked to the nearest light in the ceiling. "Lights off." She called out. The light in her suite dimmed until there was darkness. She took her cane, then moved through the darkness until she came to her bed.

For the longest time she had been afraid of the dark, afraid of the things that could hide in the dark. However it stood to reason that the Ing had often come in the daylight, unafraid of the sun. It didn't matter whether one could see it coming or not. It was still there.

_ My body is rejecting all of this, it rejects the chemicals in the water, it rejects the sounds in my ears, it rejects my artificial leg. I am beginning to think that it rejects artificial people, people without any ties or roots to the earth, people like Svenson and Thomas, and especially Mirson._

She lay down in her bed, looking up at the dark ceiling. There were still points of light in the room. Small lights that lined part of her cybernetic leg, the clock, power-save lights on various appliances, all of these in her state of half-sleep looked like stars. In the dark, memories would come to her, points of light like these. Each star waited to be studied, or ignored, however one of the brightest stars in the heaven of her memories had its own unique label and constellation.

_ Samus._

* * *

Angseth lay dieing. The gate was still closed. The gate would remain closed for a very long time. No one would open a gate that served no purpose. She had done her job, and held her post. She had been told, if falsely, that if the gate was down, the base would be safe. She had closed this gate with her life and with any luck; her spirit would continue to haunt this plane until the end of time. She could have ensured that the gate would stay closed longer if she just had more bullets. Angseth had no desire to die on this planet, her body eaten by all these alien creatures. The last log in her data book, now that she had been going over it, seemed to be very childish. She threw a fit over not getting placed on the main entry team into the splinters lair. True, she could out-shoot everyone here, but only provided she had enough rounds. Perhaps Captain Exetor was right, if she would just stop talking about the Hunter long enough to train a little harder perhaps she wouldn't have ended up in this situation.

As long as Angseth had been in the Marines, her mind had been filled with wonderful stories about a lone bounty hunter that often took on federation missions for a price. The bounty hunters name was Samus Aran. Not very many people had any concrete information on Aran, even Aran's gender was in dispute. Angseth had collected as much information as she could in the four long years she had been a marine. Tales of the Hunters adventures had reached almost every mess hall in the Federation, and the stories were swapped and traded like cards or talismans. For the most the stories served to entertain, but Angseth felt that she was one of the few who actually _believed_. The idea that a female bounty hunter could destroy an entire infestation of pirates was enough to keep Angseth at the shooting range long after everyone else had turned in for the night. The stories that Aran could solve and bypass intricate security systems of ancient civilizations encouraged Angseth to learn more about their own. When most of the members of her platoon were out drinking, Angseth had locked herself away in a library reading up on battle strategy.

A lot of good all that did now.

Baker had stopped crying about ten minutes ago. Angseth couldn't be sure because her armor had been compromised and her HUD had lost half its functions. One thing she was sure of, Baker had stopped moving. For the time being, the bugs had retreated into the walls, burrowing deeper into the solid rock around Angseths fellow marines. She had been told to close the gates, but the little bastards didn't need gates. They simply dug through the walls. They came up from the floor, hell a few of the more dangerous ones pulled themselves out of thin air. The splinters had been bad enough, they resembled oversized crickets that screamed and had the ability to chew through just about anything. On their own they weren't too hard to deal with, one or two shots and the majority of the colony would move on. Then the Purple Shit started coming. The term had been coined by Baker, who had been the first one to really get a good look at it. He had been standing near the main computer terminals when a gooey dark purple almost black mass came out of the crack in the wall next to him and began slithering across the floor. This caused Baker to ask aloud, "What the hell is that purple shit?"

Angseth still had no idea what the Purple Shit was. At first they assumed that it was a kind of fast moving fungus, or perhaps a plankton-like plant colony, or some other natural explanation. The Purple Shit had sniffed around the main computer terminals, the walls, past the feet of a few marines before disappearing back into another crack. This subterranean base was just full of surprises. A few days later they witnessed something else remarkably odd. They had been passing the time, watching a few splinters duke it out for mating rights, when the Purple Shit oozed out of another crack and slithered up the fighting pair of bugs. That was when they learned that the Purple Shit had extremely strong mutative qualities. It engulfed the splinters and began altering their physical structure. The end result was something out of a nightmare. The new creatures pounced upon the few marines posted there and killed two of them before alarm had been raised. Angseth remembered firmly that it took twenty rounds each to kill the newly mutated splinters. Twenty rounds were too much ammo to waste on one fast moving creature. Within twenty four hours their entire base had been overcome by these mutated creatures, but it didn't stop there. The Purple Shit had even engulfed both the living and dead bodies of the Marines fighting it. Angseth would never forget the pain that moved through the platoon when they had to take down one of their own.

Now here she was, the last wave had all but annihilated her squad. If there was anyone left alive she hoped that they had made it to the signal beacon. The signal beacon had been damaged upon atmospheric entry, and didn't have enough juice to put out a strong enough signal. At least that was what her CO had said.

Angseth had been around long enough to know when someone was lying through their teeth.

She could feel her blood pooling in her armor. She had never wanted a slow death, if anything, all she prayed for was to go out in a blaze of glory, just like in the holo-movies or the comics. Thankfully she had been injured enough that the pain she was in didn't matter any more. The gate was closed.

Angseth could hear something in the hall. Another Marine? Rocks slipping from the wall? Maybe a splinter looking for a meal? Plenty to be found here. _Please wait until after I die before you start munching okay?_

No, footsteps. Had to be footsteps. There was too much rhythm to be anything else. The footsteps came closer. Had help finally arrived? She would remember the sound of an incoming marine vessel, especially if it had as rough a landing as they had. The Atmosphere on Aeather was thick with electrical and radioactive phenomena. Even as they had landed and looked up at the new sky in this world, they could see what had looked like some god had tried to over lap two completely different sections of sky. It was simultaneously stormy and sunny. At first you looked, there were clouds, the next time you looked, bright blue. The sky changed so much, no wonder their ship took a pounding on the way in.

The sound stopped outside the gate. A thought crossed her mind that perhaps it was one of their zombie buddies searching for leftovers. Angseth had never wanted to be dead so much in her life. _Zombies eat the brains of the living don't they?_ The most frustrating part was Angseth couldn't turn her head to look at the gate. She could see the bottom of Bakers shoe just fine but she lacked the strength and ability to turn.

The gate rattled. Angseth had already been laying still but now she was seriously playing dead. The gate was firm thing, it didn't _rattle_. The gate was made from the finest alloys; it would take something very strong to rattle it. No, no human would be getting in here. A human would be welcome, or any one of the one hundred thirty four races that called the Federation home. Anyone but those god-damned possessed splinters. The gate rattled once more, bolts creaking in their sockets, but holding. One long moment passed, and Angseth became aware of another sound. It was something mechanical, something that whirred and hummed like a spent holo-generator. She could now feel a vague rumble move through her body. There was a tunnel to her right, one of those damn splinters had dug it, the one that got the drop on her, the one that had run up her body and imbedded its claws into her chest and legs, screaming and fighting the entire time. Angseth had grabbed it and slammed its body into the ground, then clubbed it to death with her fists and rifle. Five more of its friends then jumped her.

The entrance to the tunnel was just outside of her line of sight, but if she could manage to move her head just slightly, she could see what new torture was coming her way. It took all of her strength, but she managed to budge her head the inch or so to bring the tunnel into view.

The rough walls of the tunnel were nothing new, chipped and scraped into existence by many little clawed feet. There was a light, a soft glow that had some kind of thickness to it. Much like a holo-screen, as if you could pick it up and work it to your will. The rumble was still mild. The light grew brighter, and Angseth felt much confusion mixed with fear at the sight of her own reflection cast upon a smooth sphere-like surface. The sphere was gold in color and had a seam down the middle, where the light was spilling forth, humming from power within. While it had a near-mirror finish, it wasn't without flaws, slight scuff and drag marks marked the surface, distorting Angseths reflection. Next to this work of art Angseth felt tiny and useless. Fear had settled to the back of her mind and curiosity took the fore. She hoped that this wouldn't be some new threat. Was the Purple Shit just a method of clearing out the trash so this thing could move in?

The sphere rolled by and stopped almost dead center of the room. Angseth watched as cracks began to appear in its surface, and joints began pulling apart letting the light within spill out like liquid. The sphere pulled apart in what looked like a duck-and roll maneuver, it emptied a fully armored person into the room. The individual gained their feet, and began looking around. Angseth stared at the legs of this person, caught somewhere between delight and dismay.

She had died.

And Samus Aran was here to lead her into the afterlife.

* * *

The station was a huge monster of metal and forced breeding of many alien technologies. It had no discernible shape and when a new wing was needed, it was simply built upon the outer hull. The result was a far-reaching interlaced spider-web of metal and plasteel. While it served mainly as a military command post, it also had very many Civilian sectors and business. The Naval offices were located on one of the higher decks, which provided an unobstructed view of Syren. Admiral Mirson had one of the larger office complexes. An entire three decks had been set aside to accommodate all of the people and workspace that went with his office. All of his secretaries had their own offices, all of his lackeys and advisers, and most of the rooms were impressive spaces. Mirson after all was one of the Seven Fleet Admirals, and it was his duty to ensure the safety of everyone within this sector of space.

Angseths routine patrol aboard her craft, the Mabus, took her through all seven sectors and into the employment of all Seven Admirals at one point or another. Her home was within Admiral Mizzen's territory, and she wanted to get back there as soon as possible. Through the majority of her travels, the Admirals left her alone, the Mabus was considered a training vessel, and she often had a crew composed of mainly first-time voyagers into space. When conducting marine actions, the Admirals preferred to have seasoned troops on hand. Due to this, Angseth saw very little action these days. That suited her just fine.

Angseth stepped into Mirson's office, and took a moment to pause. His office also featured one of those huge floor-to-ceiling windows that gave a commanding view of Syren below. The sun was just peeking over the horizon and tinting had come over the window. The view at first left her feeling a little disoriented, even claustrophobic in a way. For all intents and purposes it looked as if they were about to crash right into the planet. Mirson had decorated his office in a minimal yet tasteful way. The walls had exposed beams, showing the architecture of the station, the floor was covered in high-pile cream-colored carpet, the furnishings very expensive woods, including his huge desk, wood with a granite surface. Along the walls hung plaques and holograms of memories and awards. Angseth actually liked his office, just not the red-faced old fart behind the desk.

The desk sat in the center of the room, U-shaped with a few papers and holos surrounding it. In front of the desk were three leather chairs. From the grain of the skin and subtle striped pattern, Angseth guessed they came from some poor dinosaur like creature. Two of the chairs at either side of the desk tilted and creaked as restless individuals waited patiently. She only caught a glimpse of one of the occupants, a wisp of long white hair, and could guess who the other would be. Captain Thomas and Science Officer Svenson.

Captain Angseth stepped fully into the room and saluted smartly. Admiral Mirson waved her over. "At ease. Please have a seat Captain." He gestured the third chair.

Angseth sat down, and saw that her suspicions had been confirmed. Thomas was on her left and Svenson on her right.

"I have new orders for you Angseth." He reached into a drawer and pulled out a holographic data disk. Angseth didn't take her eyes off him as she reached out and took the disk. His skin didn't seem as red today, not like it had been last night. Nope, today Mirson had what looked like a tan. As if he had been spending some time basking in the sun. Lucky bastard.

Angseth kept her gaze focused on him, or some other fixed object. If she spent too long looking out that window she might get motion-sick.

"The view again Captain?" Mirson inquired.

"Its…always been impressive." Angseth instead fixed her gaze on the disk in her hands. "I assume this is a briefing?"

"Yes. Science Officer Svenson had requested that you would personally assist him."

Svenson turned toward Angseth. "Despite my attitude last night, I was delighted when I heard that you would be attending the wedding. We have different views however I know skill when I see it."

Angseth tried to read those red eyes. Svenson had not made a good impression on her, and this just felt like a front.

Admiral Mirson spoke up again. "Svenson is the captain of a science vessel bound for SR3-88 to conduct a series of experiments. Both yourself and Captain Thomas have been assigned to guard his vessel and proposed research facility on the planets surface."

Angseth felt herself straighten up in her chair. SR3-88 had been destroyed over ten years ago, complements of everyone's favorite Bounty Hunter. The planet itself had not been completely wiped out of existence, but it was definitely uninhabitable. She couldn't help but ask. "What is the nature of this research?"

Svenson answered with a smirk. "Metroids, Captain."

Angseth allowed her features to show her confusion. "I had been lead to believe that all Metroids had been destroyed, that they are an extinct species."

"There are, and until last week that was indeed true."

Admiral Mirson spoke again. "Last week we received a report from a scouting vessel claiming to have seen a Metroid on its home world."

"I thought that SR3-88 had been declared off-limits."

"Recently several research teams have received approval to entrench themselves in orbit around SR3-88 in order to study its sun more closely." Svenson pulled up a few files on a holo-projector on Mirson's desk. "SR3-88-SOL is a highly unstable star. Recent studies indicate that it is composed of many gasses commonly found on worlds able to support life. However lately it has shown signs of destabilizing."

Angseth raised an eyebrow. "So you wish to step into the path of a supernova?"

"Not just a supernova Captain, but the makings of life itself." Svenson made direct eye-contact with her. Angseth steeled herself against his gaze. He was trying to analyze her, to break her down into key components, and she refused to let that happen. He gave her nothing but a stoic gaze. "Are you familiar with the Big Bang theory Captain?"

"Yes, of course."

Svenson continued. "Then you know that all life in this universe sprang from one concentration of matter. There have been theories as to the composition of this matter, but everyone agrees that it is highly volatile."

Angseth could see where this was going, and it was foolish. "You suspect that SR3-88-SOL is created of this volatile matter and wish to find a way to harness it. The only way you feel you can do so is to find the last existing Metroid and study it's ability to drain the power and life-force out of anything it comes across."

Svenson's jaw dropped. He didn't see that one coming.

Thomas began laughing at her side. "Sharp as a tack Captain Angseth!"

Svenson closed his mouth and recovered, slipping into his stoic expression once more. "I should have paid more attention Captain. I shouldn't have expected anything less."

Angseth straightened in her chair. Her good cybernetic leg had slipped into "sleep" mode. "It is foolish to attempt that kind of power. Some things in this universe are meant to be left alone."

"Your comments have been noted Captain Angseth." Mirson spoke. "However, this mission is not to harness that power. Please explain to her Svenson."

"SR3-88-SOL began to grow unstable as the Metroid population was taken from the world. If SR3-88-SOL were to go supernova, in essence another 'big bang' then all life as we know it would be obliterated."

Angseth turned toward Svenson again, her eyes seeking out his red ones, hidden behind his white hair. "If that were to occur Science Officer Svenson, it would be known as an Act of God. It is not for mortals to decide the fate of who should survive and should not."

"Religion and Science were never good bedfellows."

"Sometimes it helps to have faith in something other than our own arrogance Svenson."

An awkward silence fell over the room. Angseth noted that Mirson's face was getting slightly redder, but not enough to denote an eruption. Svenson had retreated back behind his curtain of hair, looking out at her from the strands, the safe wall of the consciousness. Angseth remembered when she had done that, back when she had long hair. Her mother used to call it "hiding." Is that what Svenson was doing? Keeping her at arms reach, peering at her from behind his hair?

Thomas was the one to break the silence. "The reports do not lie, you are a fiery one Captain Angseth."

Angseth looked away from Svenson, and back to the disk in her hand. Why was it whenever the conversation was getting hairy they all referred back to her temper? "Do I have to option of turning down this mission?"

Mirson leaned back in his chair, his skin loosing the red hue. "I'm afraid not Angseth. Not while you're on my payroll."

Angseth allowed her dissatisfaction to show.

"However your comments and request will be recorded when I write my reports. Your concerns have not fallen on deaf ears."

As Angseth turned the disk in her hands, she began to seriously wonder.

* * *

"Captain? Captain?" Lieutenant Briar stepped into one of the many bars the station had to offer. So far he had been making the rounds of all the local haunts on C deck, the ones that Angseth would usually frequent. The meeting had been over six hours ago, and still no sign of the Captain. This was his next to last bar he would check for her, then it was onto the different training rooms. Usually, just a quick sweep of the area was necessary to tell if she had been there. He stepped into the bar, and up to the Human behind the counter. "Excuse me."

The bartender looked up from his work, then nodded. "What can I get you?"

"I was wondering if Captain Angseth had come in here this evening."

The bartender pointed to a booth in the corner. Briar felt his tail twitch in anxiety when he turned and made out the slumped form of his captain seated at the table with what seemed like an entire nights worth of glasses surrounding her. Briar knew from previous experience and lost bets that heavy-worlders had a high alcohol tolerance. Angseth had one of the highest he had seen, however judging from the complete dinette set around her at the table, she was making an honest attempt at inebriation.

"Captain." Briar walked over and sat down on the opposite bench of the booth. "I finally found you, why did you break off contact?" He lifted his hand and moved her head to the side. "Is everything alright?"

"I have received new orders." She said it as if that explained everything. Angseth lifted her head from the table. "We will not return to patrol on the perimeter. We've been handed a death sentence."

Briar sat quiet for a moment. His feline features not betraying any of his inner thoughts. Angseth found that to one of the more curious points about him. "Vera, what is bothering you?"

Angseth met his eyes at the mention of her first name. They stayed a little too long. His features only showed determination and concern. She sat up fully and ran her hand through her hair, then began to shift glasses aside, arranging them by type. "We are to escort Science Officer Svenson's vessel to SR3-88 and establish a base of operations."

"That's standard. I don't see how it could be a death sentence."

Angseth once again rested her head in her hands. It was unfair. One should never have a hangover without at least a minor buzz. "He says the mission is to study the relationship between Metroids and their sun."

"Metroids are extinct…perhaps a few might have escaped on Tallon IV, however—"

"I think…I think they're trying to take down the Hunter."

Briar grew silent. Angseth could practically see the wheels in his mind turning. "That…would be disastrous."

Angseth nodded. "I feel that this is a power play. The Confederation has been slowing coming apart at the seams due to the new trade regulations and zoning laws. The Seven Admirals have been pushing for more power in the senate. It's only a matter of time before one of them comes forward and withdraws their territory from the Confederation. I would bet any amount of money that the first would be Mirson." She felt Briars hand cover her own. "Nevada."

"Vera, we will make it through this. We've been through tough situations before." Briar said softly.

"There's something else." Angseth lowered her hand and covered his.

"Yes?"

"I've put in for my retirement. This will be my last mission."

"What will you do after this?"

"Move into Admiral Mizzen's Territory. Finally get married to you." She said softly. "It's always been dangerous to show our affection in Mirsons territory. The Humans here don't really see it our way."

"Right now that isn't important. If you're worried about saving face Vera, I think the time for that has passed. The only thing I want to see right now is the smile back in your eyes. When we make it back from SR3-88, I will transfer to a permanent location within Mizzen's territory. You may want to quit the Confederation, but I haven't given up hope yet." He kissed the back of her knuckles. "We will be happy."

Angseth smiled, the headache fading away slightly.

"That's what I wanted to see." Briar gently set her hand on the table. "When do we leave?"

"I received a two day extension on our stay to prepare for the mission. Captain Thomas will also accompany us."

One of Briars ears shifted back. "Two battleships? Why would…Vera, something doesn't add up."

"It doesn't rub me the right way either." Angseth sighed, and finished corralling the glasses at the end of the table. A waitress was heading over with what looked like her tab. "I'm sorry you had to find me in such a state. The last thing my crew needs in a situation like this is for their Captain to start loosing her shit." She noticed that Briar was still holding her hand. "That said I really don't feel like returning to my suite this evening."

"Will you be sleeping aboard the Mabus then?"

"I was thinking about it."

"Would you mind any company?"

Angseth felt her smile widen. "I wouldn't mind company at all."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

The trip to SR3-88 would take just over three weeks from this point on the frontier, provided they didn't get stalled for any length of time. Admiral Mirson had left Angseth in charge of the operations of all three vessels since she was the more senior officer of the group. Angseth wondered why Svenson wasn't the one leading the charge since, as she saw it, this whole mess was his fault anyway. The budget had landed in her lap, and it didn't take an in-depth look to see that they were horribly under-funded. Angseth's work station had been flooded with files requesting repairs on all three ships, supply lists, and last-minute budget changes. It was enough for Angseth to leave her office several times gritting her teeth in frustration.

There were three ships to account for: Captain Thomas in the battleship _Regal,_ Science Officer Svenson in the Science Vessel _Socrates_, and Angseth's own battleship _Mabus._ Thankfully the _Regal_ already had most of her budget worked out. It didn't take long for Angseth to make sligh, more cost-effective changes to her supply list. Captain Thomas hovered over her shoulder the entire time, ceaselessly asking questions about why she made certain alterations. When he began talking about the simulations at the academy, it made it all the easier for Angseth to chalk it up to his lack of experience. After a while she learned to tune most of it out and only nodded her head at the right moments to indicate that she was still listening. The _Socrates_ on the other hand was a bit of a conundrum. Even though the vessel was huge it had a relatively small crew. That made for small food and supply lists, but the alterations that were required for storing all of their equipment was a bit extreme. It was the first time that Angseth ever had to request the near-equivalent ratio of food to coolant for a vessel. She made a note to perhaps peruse the ship to see if there was anymore closet space she could cram a spectrum reader into. That was before she learned that the scientists aboard the ship would be sharing bunks. Even Svenson would be bunking with his first officer.

And the _Mabus_…the _Mabus_ as always, was a challenge. Her first draft of a budget extension was denied. Mirson had always been up her ass about the protein demands of her crew. Once again, Angseth had to drag out the old charts and place the report before the Admiral to provide full reasoning behind her budget requests. Most of her crew were not human, and the few humans she had hailed from mostly heavier worlds. Different species had different dietary needs. Species classes B and D needed more protein, while heavy-worlders needed more calcium. Mirson fell just shy of offering her vouchers at refueling stations along the way. As she argued back and forth with him, she was given three-quarters of her budget extension, but not the full amount. Admiral Mizzen wouldn't have argued with her, just given her what she needed, then again, Mizzen wasn't a human.

Angseth sat in her temporary office going over the last few figures along with Serec and Briar. She had been at this for the past twelve hours and didn't care if she never even looked at another number for the next ten years. After rubbing her head she groaned. "You know, for someone intent on having us escort this vessel, Mirson seems a little reluctant to give us the things we need." She scanned through the supply list to see if there was anything else she could cut.

Serec spoke from his desk "I suppose the Admiral feels he should only spend so much on cannon fodder."

Angseth smiled but called out. "Hey, it's bad luck to joke around like that."

Serec grinned, then went back to his network of holo screens. The light from the screens reflected in his glasses, also holo-capable. Angseth closed her eyes and reached for her glass of water. Serec was an average-looking human, one of the few non-heavies on her ship. He was in his late thirties, but looked like he was pushing fifty. He always preferred to wear his engineering jumpsuit even at inappropriate times. Angseth wondered briefly how long it had taken Briar to peel him out of it the other day and put on a formal suit for the wedding. The jumpsuit was covered in stains made from every kind of fluid that could be found covering the inner workings of a battle cruiser. She could always tell he was coming by the jingle of bolts he always kept in his pocket. Smells of ship-grade hydraulic fluid seemed to precede him when he entered a room. Angseth had first met Serec when she needed repairs to her fighter. She remembered walking up to the gentleman in the middle of the room assuming that he was the head engineering officer, but was surprised when Serec himself pulled his skinny body out of the engine compartment of another craft and walked over to her, before shaking her hand. Angseth could still recall the feel of the lubricant on his hand slapping her palm and the sensation of it oozing between her fingers. Serec had been almost thirty-two at the time, but still had that excited kids grin. Angseth knew at that moment that Serec would never be happier than he was while crawling around like some oily worm in the belly of a great engine.

She looked over her calendar for the next day to see if Admiral Mirson was planning an inspection of her craft before she left. She hated the inspections. Thankfully she seemed to be in the clear.

"Now that we have all the food and supplies taken care of, what do we have left for weaponry?" Angseth asked Serec.

"I always found it funny that it's cheaper to buy a bullet than a loaf of bread." Serec smiled then went over his list. "We still have a good compliment of ammo. We are shy a few rounds, but we used those to make mandatory calibration and target practice shots. I don't even think we'll need anymore blasting compound."

"I've been receiving some requests from the _Socrates_ to carry a few of their supplies. What bays to we have available?"

"Hmm…I think 15F through 19F should do nicely. The walls can be removed to create a larger space if need be."

Angseth looked over their weapons cache. "Go ahead and order enough to fill in what we're missing, and perhaps just a little extra. I've read a bulletin this morning that said there was some pirate activity in the area we will be traveling through. I don't want to be caught unprepared."

Serec made the proper adjustments, and then asked everyone if all orders had been placed. Angseth nodded, as did Briar. Serec then sent the order through, and waited for the confirming e-mail. A small beep went through the room, it was Angseths personal com. She picked it up and spoke.

"Angseth." She stated.

"Captain." It was Thomas. Angseth rolled her eyes, then settled back into her chair. "I was hoping to compare notes with you as the capacity of our ships holding capabilities. "

"Spit it out Thomas, what do you want me to carry?"

"Well, there is some mining equipment,"

Angseth looked at the com, not believing what she had just heard. "Mining equipment? What the hell do we need mining equipment for—oh never mind. Yes I can carry some of it." She rubbed her forehead then blacked out the areas of the decks 15F and 16F on her holo screen, indicating that they were now reserved. "I've got you down for bays 15F and 16F."

"Thank you Captain, is there anything I can do for you?"

Angseth went silent for a moment, then a grin spread across her face. "How much of your protein ration are you willing to give up?"

"I…I'll see what I can do."

The com link faded, and Angseth sighed. "That boy is going to get eaten alive."

"Don't underestimate him." Briar smiled.

"I think you've got some dirt for us." Angseth said, standing and closing the door. The door slid shut and she locked it, before slipping back into her seat, and resting her hands in her lap. "Cough it up honey."

Serec removed his glasses and turned his chair away from the holo screens, setting them all on stand-by.

"It took a bit of digging, but I have finally turned up the backgrounds of our fellow voyagers." Briar turned in his chair until the three of them had their backs to their terminals, and faced each other. "Which would you prefer first my sweet?"

Angseth smirked, but Serec answered for her. "Thomas." He called out.

"Thomas...also known as Captain Henry Thomas. A relative of Mirsons by the recent marriage we witnessed not too long ago. He is now Mirson's nephew in law."

"That explains quite a bit." Angseth mused.

"But that is not the extent of his accomplishments. Henry Thomas entered into Syren Galactic Junior Cadet Training Academy at the tender age of seven, where he excelled past all of his other classmates at a record speed. Where it usually takes one roughly six years to complete all required courses, this boy did it in four."

"I hate him already. Money _and_ brains"

"He has been hailed as a prodigy in warfare and diplomacy, and the future looks very bright for him, provided he can keep his head on long enough. After graduating with honors, top of his class etc. from SGJCTA, at the age of twelve he was enrolled in three of the most highly recognized training schools the Confederation has to offer. Cervea Officer Academy, Galactic Confederation Training Academy, and New West Point. I had to look up COA myself."

"How could he be in three of them at once?"

"Some of the extra courses he had taken at SGJCTA had credits that transferred over to the new schools, and if you remember, most of these schools depend on athletics and infantry training as part of their curriculum. Since he was so young, or so the paperwork says, the infantry training was waved, which left him with nothing to take but the officer courses, which of course can be taken in a short amount of time compared to the infantry training. Now since he did not take the infantry training he wasn't able to get a full diploma at any of these schools, however they did award him with their own variations of a certificate of achievement, which as most of us know, is just as good."

"But even with all that training, how could he make Captain so soon?"

"After schooling, he was placed as a Junior Officer aboard the Fleet Flagship, _Infinity_." Briar took a sip of water. "And there he has remained for the past three years. Until he was called in by Admiral Mirson to attend the wedding of his daughter. Made sense, except that after the wedding, Mirson had handed over the _Regal_ to Thomas, and given him a promotion. This would be the first ship that Thomas has piloted solo. But he has had the training."

"That's…stupid."

"Perhaps, but did that budget look as if it came from a stupid kid?"

Angseth bit her bottom lip. Not very many seasoned officers could come up with a budget as balanced as that. "Okay, so he has book smarts, but that doesn't mean that I have to baby-sit him."

"Ready for our second companion?"

Angseth sighed. "Can't get any worse."

"Science Officer Theodore Svenson hails from Rovien. Rovien is not so much a planet as a huge station that had been abandoned over five hundred years ago. Roughly one hundred years ago, a group of scientists wanting to study without the constraints of Federation law decided to fix and settle in the derelict space station. Federation law, and even Confederation law has very strict rules when performing certain experiments on a planet's surface. However, a space station is private property, so the rules are relaxed. Over time, the original Rovites had renovated and restored the station back to working condition. However, since they lacked most of the man power, and it would prove too risky to apply for an immigration license, they fell to the only option they had left to them; Cloning. Almost everyone aboard Rovien is a clone of one of the original scientists. Over one hundred scientists had settled there when the station was claimed, but now Rovien boasts a population of over two million."

"Even if they cloned each scientist a hundred times, wouldn't that make the gene pool very thin?" Serec asked.

"Yes, it would, and it still wouldn't be enough for two million people. That's because even though Rovien technically has no immigration license, that doesn't block it from taking in refugees."

"So they use refugees to supplement their population?"

"Not just any refugees, you have to have be a scientist, and willing to perform acts of science that would push the limits of understanding. As far as I know, no theory is too far-fetched. The more progress you have made, the more they want you. Rumors have it that Rovites have even stooped to taking blood samples of scientific leaders and cloning them back on Rovien. However, Rovien's lax laws have made it a home for those who perform procedures with moral ambiguity."

"Great, a station full of mad scientists."

"Theodore Svenson is a clone of one of the original founders of Rovien. He has about three hundred brothers, and all records show that he is a Variable."

"What does that mean?"

"In everyone's genetic code, you have a set system of features. Usually all these features follow the same path, but there is one random gene that allows for mutation. In cloning, you have a genetic code to follow, and nine times out of ten, you will get the same exact thing, but sometimes there is a fluke, and the tenth one comes out…different. That's the Variable. Most of the time the fluke doesn't live, however it appears Theodore was handed an easy sentence. He became an albino, not a mutant, and from what I've been able to gather, he doesn't follow the same thought pattern of his brothers."

"An individual clone."

"In essence. He is on medications, because he has been known to have…spells."

"Spells, like when the Captain has spells?" Serec couldn't resist the jab.

Angseth tossed her pen at him. Serec laughed.

"I haven't read much, but they seem to come into play when his hormone levels are off."

"Great, a clone with PMS."

Angseth turned toward Serec. "Would you please?"

Serec lifted his hand, mimicking a buttoning gesture over his lips.

Briar stifled a chuckle. "Medication had almost eliminated the occurrence of these spells, however, the fact that he still has them makes him ineligible for a higher rank than Science Officer."

Angseth nodded. "No wonder he seems so nervous. A side effect of the medication?"

"Who knows, perhaps it's just his nature." Briar yawned. "Anyway. That's all I could dig up on those two. Hope it helps."

Angseth nodded. "Indeed it does."

* * *

Angseth took one last look around the suite she had been staying in for the past week. Everything seemed to be in order. The bed was made, everything had been cleared off the dressers. She wanted to make sure that she had left no sock or odd bauble behind, leaving no reminder of her presence. Vera closed and locked the door, then picked up her duffel bag and slung it over her shoulder. The _Mabus_ was waiting, and the Captain couldn't wait to get back in command of her ship.

It took just a little over twenty minutes to catch an inter-station transport, walk to a connecting terminal and then ride a mag-lev car to the holding bay where the _Mabus_ was docked. She could already see most of her crew lining up on the huge platform that served as the dock. Briar was already there, as was Serec, scanning a data pad and seeming to curse under his breath. Angseth stepped out of the shuttle and walked the one hundred or so yards along the dock toward her waiting crew.

The _Mabus_ was held in one of the larger bays, numerous tubes and umbilicals that connected to smaller docks carried supplies and fuel. A few tethers acted as redundancies to keep the ship in place even though the force fields and docking clamps did most of the work. The gangplank had been extended and currently Briar was trying to get the security booth up and running. The booth consisted of a field that scanned for all manner of metals and objects. Two of Mirson's guards were standing by, looking more bored than authoritative, they were present to assure that no contraband was brought on board which included exotic fruits, animals, weaponry, unauthorized electronic equipment, and any device that didn't meet Confederation standards.

During Angseth's command of the _Mabus_, the most amusing thing anyone had tried to smuggle aboard was a "sophisticated" android. The poor creature had been broken down into several components and divided between different crew members. It had been like trying to find the prize. They had first uncovered a hand, which had been confiscated, then noticed a trend as more and more body parts were recovered. In the end Angseth didn't know if she should punish those involved for trying to sneak unauthorized technology on board, or for harboring a stow-away. There had been other unusual cases, most stemming from a wide variety of weapons, most of which Angseth wished that she could have kept herself.

Angseth and her Commanding Officers stood at the head of the column. They would be the first allowed on board, and given an hour to check the ship over. The crew would then be allowed to board, with the only exception being Briar. Briar stood at the side of the security field. He would be the last to board, only after everyone had been accounted for. Serec was constantly checking on the updates of the loading of supplies.

"Relax Serec." Angseth said, noticing a bead of sweat moving down the side of his face.

"They're running behind with our supplies. I've always found it funny that they load the guns before the food." He looked up as Angseth picked up her duffel bag and smaller brief case. She stepped calmly through the booth as Briar saluted smartly. She smirked as she walked past him. Briar turned his head as he watched her walk up the gangplank. Tight muscles moved under her captain's uniform, her gait broken only by the slight limp from her cybernetic leg. Briar felt that Angseth was a woman totally oblivious to her own looks and presence. "Get a good look Briar. You'll be going a whole hour without seeing her." Serec smirked

"Please put your bag in the scanner."

Serec smiled and plopped his bags down on the table while the security officer ran a scanner over the bags. Briar always had subtle ways of being a pain in the ass when he wanted to. Both of them had been playing this game since they were dorm mates in the academy together.

"What do you know, I might have to do a more in depth search." Briar nodded as he studied the scanner. "Seems you have a lot of mechanical components in here."

"No shit Lieutenant. That's why I'm the chief engineering officer. I carry components around with me."

"Hmm…empty out the contents of your bags please."

Serec snagged his bags then dumped out the contents. Briar scrutinized the machine parts, data slates loaded with repair manuals, the odd piece of clothing, and the ever present reek of hydrolic fluid that rendered his sense of smell useless. Serec watched as Briar went through the motions of examining every little cog and data file, separating them out into neat little piles before announcing, "Well, it seems I was mistaken. Go on and take your things Lieutenant."

Serec shoved his items haphazardly back in the bag, and then walked through the field.

The security guards scanned his bags again for good measure, then Serec followed behind his Captain. Briar had just thrown down the first challenge. That was okay, Serec would see how long the fur-ball could last without proper air conditioning in his quarters. The other officers fell into line as Briar began scanning each of their bags. So far so good. Hopefully no one would try to sneak some kind of odd critter on this time.

Angseth slowly moved up the gangplank to her ship. She hated crossing the walkway. The gangplank was little more than a covered umbilical with grating on the floor to walk on. Angseth preferred the firm ground of either her ship or a station, and of course the blessed earth of whatever planet she had the fortune to walk upon. The umbilical often shook and rocked like a waterbed, even though the loose framework prevented too much movement. The subtle swaying and gyrations of the umbilical were often enough to knock the equalizers in her cybernetic leg off just slightly, making it harder for her to walk. Angseth always wrapped one hand firmly around the guard rail, and focused purely on the hexagonal door at the other end. The tube's subtle shaking began to intensify as more of her officers boarded. She quickened her pace and stumbled the last few feet. With a sigh of relief she stepped aboard the _Mabus._ Immediately she could feel the tenseness in her arms and head melt away. The phantom limb that had settled in her cybernetic leg faded. She was home.

The _Mabus_ was a battle cruiser that was just over one hundred seventy years old. This particular class of ship had been getting phased out over the years, each one either used for target practice or stripped down and used to make other, newer ships. Angseth was determined to keep the _Mabus_ in service. It had served her well, and perhaps if she was lucky enough, she could buy it outright and use it as a transport.

As far as warships went, the _Mabus_ had an average comfort level. The little décor it had was pleasing to the eye, and functional. Most ships had the same flat gray on the interior, however the gray floors and walls on the _Mabus_ had been replaced by off-white and indirect lighting. Most of that was due to Angseths insistence that crews on such long voyages often grew depressed and disoriented when faced with the same flat color for so long. Color psychology had worked, and thus far Angseth had one of the more active and ready crews in the Confederation. The floors had been covered in a rubber-like substance to prevent the hoofed members of her crew from slipping. Hexagonal-shaped halls opened and closed at regular intervals to keep air-flow and environmental systems optimal.

Angseth set her bag down inside the door and stretched. Her back popped once, and she lowered her arms. It was time to begin the time-honored ritual of the walk-through. She left her bags by the door, and would not pick them back up again until she was sure the ship was in working order. When she came back to retrieve her bags that would be Briars cue to start letting the rest of the crew on board. Angseth stood beside the door and greeted her officers as they came on board. Serec and Briar seemed to be caught up in something further down the gangplank. Did Serec actually bring something with him, or was Briar just being an ass? She turned as Sakari Bearn, her chief medical officer came aboard with her husband, Zaine Bearn, head commander of the on board infantry.

"Welcome aboard." She shook their hands in greeting.

"Good to be back on board Captain. Been waiting for a week." Zaine Bearn was a heavy-world human in his mid-thirties. He had dark coffee-colored skin, dark brown eyes, and hair that hung almost halfway down his back corded into thick dreadlocks. Angseth found her eye drawn to the intricate tattoo common of men in his House. It took up the majority of the left side of his face, starting at his temple and extending down the side of his face, under his eye and ending at his jaw. His wife, Sakari Bearn stood at his side, checking a data pad in her hands. She was smaller in frame than Angseth, but about the same height as the Captain. Sakari was soft-spoken and nurturing, however she could have razor-sharp tongue when the need arose. Angseth had watched this small woman reduce creatures from races twice her size down to dejected piles of flesh. Her skin was slightly lighter in tone than her husbands, yet Angseth pitied the poor soul that mistook her for a small frail human. Angseth had always held both Zaine and Sakari Bearn in very high respect.

Angseth greeted other officers for the next few minutes, and gave a few last-minute instructions before turning and heading toward the bridge.

Doors opened and closed behind her as Angseth walked through the halls and work spaces between the main loading docks and the bridge. She ran her hands along the different rivets and gaskets, along the top of door frames. So far it seemed to be in order. The dust was at a tolerable level, and the pressure-equalizers were doing well maintaining the atmosphere of the vessel. As another set of doors opened before her, Angseth felt the gravity in the ship begin to fluctuate. Good, Serec was cranking up the gravity, since there were many heavy-worlders on her craft; they required more gravity to maintain a healthy circulatory system. If Serec was already in position, then the next few moments would be filled with minor rolling black-outs as he ran a diagnostic on the ship. Angseth smiled as she stopped at the door to the bridge, and then punched in a key-code at the door. The door hissed open and Angseth stepped inside.

The bridge was one of the only rooms not equipped with gravity generators. The room was in the shape of a large sphere seventy five feet in diameter. Placed along the walls at regular intervals were small alcoves where monitoring stations for the ships navigation and energy levels were nestled. Taking the vast majority of one wall of the sphere was a large view-screen. Even though the bridge was set fairly deep into the ship, the large view-screen gave the impression that they were sitting just at the bow of the craft. Currently the main holo-screen and those in the monitoring stations were either dark or flashed a stand-by message. Hovering in the center of the sphere was her captain's chair. The chair was a large bubble-shaped throne that was equipped with holographs of all the stations and terminals around her. The seat was padded in black leather, and had to be one of the most comfortable things Angseth had ever sat on.

Captain Angseth stepped through the doorway and felt her body and leg relax as the weight lifted from her joints. She braced herself and pushed off the floor, gliding through the air to her captain's chair. Her hands found a few grips on the side and she used those to maneuver herself into the chair. She sat down, the leather warming to her body. The holo-screens around her began to flicker to life, each asking for her pass codes and confirmation numbers. Angseth ran her hands over the arm rests and then began to paging her officers.

"Serec, Please report."

"The weapon systems have checked out, and all of the munitions have been stored safely. All I'm waiting for right now is the rest of the equipment they want us to carry." Serec spoke with a bit of a muffle to his voice. Angseth had a clear holographic image of Serec with several holo-screens floating around him and a stylus pinched between his lips as he worked on something else.

"Thank you." Angseth began to boot up the systems on the bridge. Around her screens began to flicker to life.

"We even appear to lost that warp murmur we had when we came in."

"Good, let me know when the supplies have all been loaded."

"The umbilicals are beginning to beak away now."

Reports began to come in from the Bearns and the ships mess-hall chefs. Equipment was good, supplies had been put away properly, and everything was ready for the bulk of the crew. Angseth pushed away from her Captain's throne and descended to the entry hatch. It only took her a moment to arrive at the main gangplank and pick her bags up. From this point she could see Briar already performing preliminary scans on some of their known repeat offenders for bringing contraband on board. They had already been singled out from the group and Mirsons security officers were going through their things. The officers seemed to be thankful to have something to do. Briar looked up in time to see his Captain remove her bags and then he began to let crew members aboard. Angseth stood and welcomed the first twenty or so, then made her way to her personal quarters to drop off her things.

Her own quarters were not very impressive. Angseth preferred the minimal art-deco look. She only had two rooms to herself, a bedroom and an office-like area. The bedroom had a large bed, neatly made and covered in bedding that she had found at another station. The design and texture appealed to her so she snagged them. Her office was combined work-space and entertainment. She kept most of the holo-screens herded to one side of the room. As Angseth stepped in she was greeted by a holographic image of Samus Aran hovering over her coffee table. "I thought I had turned all those off." She reached out and deactivated the image. She also kept one of the few decent scans of a Metroid. She recalled with a smile a time when she had brought a guest into her quarters with the Metroid holograph still activated. The poor man almost wet himself. Angseth tossed her bags in on her bed, and then made her way to the Bridge again. Her obsession was nothing new to anyone of her crew, her reputation had been almost built upon her obsessions. Briar wasn't as interested in Aran as she was, but the newer cadets could never get enough of her stories. Angseth didn't mind telling of her adventures on Aether, as long as the audience showed that same amount of curiosity that she had shown so long ago. She didn't like telling the stories at parties because then she was nothing more than a performing ape and she felt that she had to know a person to a certain level before she started sharing pieces of herself.

Upwards of fifteen people were bouncing off the walls and into their stations abroad the bridge. Angseth paused for a moment inside the door before pushing off the floor and floating to her chair as the cry of "Captain on the bridge!" echoed through the room. Angseth felt a smile come over her lips. The _Mabus_ was safe, it was home, and everyone aboard felt like family. She settled into her throne again, calling out. "As you were." The main screen had been fully warmed up providing a stunning view of the interior of the docking bay.

"Good morning ladies and gentlemen." Angseth called out to the room. "It's good to see everyone again. I hope all of you have had enough down-time to last for a good while."

There was a approving titter. Could it be that everyone wanted off that station as much as their dear Captain? Or were they all just broke and needed a place to stay for the night?

Angseth called out. "Ensign Creet, could you please hail the _Socrates_ and the _Regal_?"

"Aye Captain."

Angseth ran over her check lists as holograms of both Captain Thomas and S.O. Svenson appeared at either side of her. She thought for a moment that they looked like the classic depictions of the shoulder angel and demons that were supposed to tempt humans and guide their choices, but shook that thought away. She couldn't start thinking of them in that way.

"Captain Angseth?"

"I wanted to check our projected flight path against our joint navigation systems. We will travel in formation until we reach the edge of the Syren solar system. From there the path should be clear enough to slip into warp."

"Why so far out Captain Angseth?" Svenson asked. Angseth was a little surprised that the scientist of the group would be the one to ask such a silly question.

"I don't want to risk our three ships creating too much of a wake. Three masses as large as ours could create an eddy that will take a while to clear away." She responded as smoothly as she could.

"I see."

Angseth downloaded the navigation route from their ships and synchronized the data. Since they would all be taking the exact same route, they couldn't wander off too far. Wakes were dangerous things. Every craft, no matter how large or small created a wake when they warped. There was not much matter out in space, but there was still matter. The molecules were spread further apart, but they were still there. One of the first things that Angseth had learned when she quit the Marines and joined the Space-Force was all about Wakes and Auras.

Every ship created a magnetic field around itself just by existing. This field was often used as a basis for all other technology. Within this field were many layers, and more layers could be generated provided one had enough power. The natural existing field was called the "Aura." All other external components on a vessel were based within the Aura. By manipulating the Aura, one could create shields, send out external scans, vanish off radar and sonar screens, as well as base cloaking maneuvers. The Aura was also used as a stable area when engaging in warp. Angseth had seen it explained to her as a bubble that surrounded the ship, and when one warped, this bubble followed you. The Aura also had a bad habit of attracting other molecules to it; this was a problem for much larger ships. When one warped, you essentially left an absence of matter behind you. This was called the Wake. Anything in the immediate area was sucked into the wake. The larger the ship warping out, the more matter it drew. Any smaller craft could be caught in the wake and have their systems disrupted or get sucked off course. When two or more large ships warped at the same time, their crossing wakes could cause an Eddy. An eddy was a vortex of conflicting energy. Eddies happened in the wild all the time, but once again, smaller craft ran the risk of getting smashed to pieces in two conflicting currents. Confederation law stated that ample distance must be given between the warping ship and other vessels, crafts, planets, or stations. It was a rule that Angseth followed to the letter. She knew the dangers of Wakes and Auras on a ship. She had gotten caught in one and that had cost her leg.

"Docking clamps have fallen away Captain."

"Good, now maneuver out and keep the heading steady." Angseth watched the main screen as their projected path appeared before her. "Easy. As much satisfaction as it would bring me to clip the _Regal_, I can't cause so much damage early in the mission."

"Aye-Aye Captain." Voices were reporting in from all around her.

"Clearance has been received to take path Beta5 to the edge."

"Really want us out of here do they?" Angseth sat back in her chair as the exterior of the station left her view screens and was replaced with the infinity of space she had known since she was a child. "Keep ahead on current bearing; let's see if we can get these two guys to follow us."

"Aye Captain."

Once the _Mabus_ was free of the pull of the station, Angseth gave one look back. Another mission, another day, and another prayer to return safely.

* * *

Aether. The sound of those damned wasps. Wasps roughly the size of a person's arm. The Hunter was blasting away at the cursed things. Every burst of energy from the barrel of the gun felt like a sledgehammer to the inside of Angseth's skull. Angseth had been awakened by the sound of plasma fire, and the constant screaming of the wasps. She was vaguely aware of the sensation of movement. Her body had been slung over the Hunter's shoulder. Angseth opened her eyes and saw the ground fall away below them. Aran was leaping over large rocks and crates with ease. As consciousness returned, Angseth tried to recall the events of the past few hours before she had passed out. She had gotten jumped by a gang of Ing-possessed splinters, and had lay there dieing when Aran came rolling into the base in her Morph-Ball form. The last thing that Angseth could remember was the business end of the power cannon mounted on Aran's arm on level with her head. Aran had just dispatched all of Angseth's Ing-possessed zombie comrades and Angseth had picked a bad time to move. The Hunter had snapped around and leveled that big green instrument of total destruction at her face. Angseth remembered how big that cannon looked, like she could just crawl inside the freakishly huge barrel and make a little home next to the plasma generator at the other end. She also vaguely remembered passing out. However whether the cannon or just sheer exhaustion caused her to lose consciousness was still lost to her.

Angseth took note of her current situation. Her body slung over the shoulder of her idol, bleeding and whimpering at every blast that dispatched their enemies. The only thing that Angseth could really make out at the moment was the color of the dirt the Hunters gold boots were kicking up. Everything seemed the same hue and color, with the vague exception of the sky. When Aran jumped, Angseth had the opportunity to study the simple tread on the bottom of Aran's soles. The Hunter stopped jumping for a moment, giving Angseth an opportunity to study her surroundings without all of the bouncing and dust. It was a valley, surrounded by tall steep sharp mountains. She and her fellow Marines had set up a part of their base-camp here. Angseth could remember the layout quite well. Aran began moving again and stepped behind a stack of crates. Splinters were now pouring from every shady nook and cranny, coming after them. Aran slipped Angseth off her shoulder and placed her limp body between a crate and a convenient boulder. Angseth felt her head hit the crate and let out a small grunt. After all she had been through today, a little knock on the head did little to phase her. Aran stood and slipped from view. Angseth saw the last glint of gold as the Hunter's feet went around the corner. Angseth still felt groggy. Her vision was blurry, but slowly correcting. She also had the mother of all headaches.

"I'm not…dead…almost wish I was through." Angseth breathed. She looked over her body through the view-screen on her helmet. However neither the screen, nor the helmet were hers. _This…this is Bakers helmet…and that belongs to…She, She repaired my suit. She took parts from the rest of the team and repaired my suit!_ For a moment the thought crossed her mind that the pieces of metal now guarding her legs and arms had formerly been on dead bodies, however the thought was easily pushed away. These were men and women she had worked with, knew better than her own family. They had laughed together, eaten together, sweated and played together. Men and women she had watched die, heard their last screams coming over the com-link as they called out to loved ones. Something else was clawing at her chest, guilt. Guilt that by some miracle she had survived and they…

"No…not now." Angseth pushed the tears away. There would be time for crying later, right now she had to live. She could mourn some other time.

Aside from the headache, Angseth felt almost no pain. She could feel that her wounds had been wrapped and dressed under the armor, and the cobbled suit had been loaded with enough stimulants and painkillers to keep the discomfort at bay for some time.

The sounds of plasma fire faded. Angseth turned her head toward the corner she had seen Aran turn. After a moment Angseth could see a gold reflection on the rock as Aran came back around the corner. In her left hand she held two energy orbs, and a rifle was slung over her shoulder. She knelt before Angseth and dropped the rifle in her lap, as well as the two orbs. Angseth looked stupidly down at the rifle. It was standard issue, used Galactic standard rounds; just by glancing at it Angseth could tell that it was fully loaded. Samus Aran stood, walked to the corner, then lifted her left hand and waved it once, in the universal "goodbye" gesture.

For a moment Angseth pondered the gesture, but when Aran didn't return after a few breaths, Angseth stood and peeked around the corner of the crate.

The Hunter was nowhere to be seen.

"Oh hell no." Angseth limped out from behind the crates. Dead splinters littered the ground and War Wasps seemed to be out scouting around looking for more prey. The sound of plasma fire could be heard echoing through the chasm. "What kind of shit is this?" Angseth called toward the distant echo. "You doctor me up, drop a gun in my lap, and then leave me?" Angseth cocked the gun and heard a round click home into the chamber. Her ears began to ring as she gave herself a burst of stimulants. "I am not staying behind here and letting the same thing happen to me that happened to my comrades."

At the mention of her fellow marines, the beast named "guilt" threatened to break free of its cage again. Angseth paused, looking around the valley. If she refused to feed it, the beast would go back into hiding until she could find time to deal with it. All around her were crates they had unloaded from the drop-shop. Each containing supplies and weapons.

She walked over to the nearest crate and studied it for a moment. She didn't have the access codes for the weapons crates. Only the CO had those codes as he was the one responsible for keeping an inventory of their stock. Angseth wondered if she could somehow get the codes from him, but the idea of raiding the body of her dead CO for codes seemed…improper. She stood and examined the nearest crate, then stepped back and opened fire. It took five rounds before the metal cracked and caved, giving Angseth enough room to reach her hand in. She waited until the plasma fire faded, then removed a few clips. "Hold up bitch, I'm coming after you."

Angseth grabbed all she could carry, and began running. "Dammit Aran! If the critters here don't kill you I will!"

* * *

One week into the journey and Angseth's throne was already covered in complaints and reports of ailments that had overcome the _Mabus_ since leaving Admiral Mirson's orbital station around Syren. So far there was nothing major, just small annoyances. The most annoying seemed to be the sudden environmental malfunction located only in Lieutenant Briars quarters that seemed to affect just the air conditioning. The murmur in the warp core had returned, and as usual Mirson had shorted them on protein. Even the weaponry and munitions seemed a little low on quality. Between answering pages from both Svenson and Thomas every few minutes, and the new flood of damage reports, Angseth had very little time to do the more important things, like running her ship. In a moment of desperation she summoned all of her officers to the conference room adjacent to the bridge, and left specific orders with her communications officer not to let anyone disturb her. She didn't care if pirates were firing upon Svenson and Thomas and all of their shields had fallen, the meeting was not to be disturbed for any reason.

The Conference Room was the most deceptive room on her craft. It wasn't so much a room as a closet. There was no table for everyone to sit around, and most of the chairs folded out from the walls. The only thing the plain room had in abundance were holo-screens. Each screen displayed reports for everyone present to view and peruse at their leisure. Angseth leaned against a wall and waited for her officers and crew to arrive. One by one they crept in and took their places silently until all were accounted for. Serec leaned against the far wall next to Medical Officer Sakari Bearn. Briar as usual was seated next to Angseth, tapping away at some portable holo-screen.

_ Probably about to hand me another report._ Angseth thought bitterly. As her mess-hall chef Xon scampered into the room, she came off her spot on the wall and began to slowly pace the small room. She had always found it difficult to sit still in meetings. She knew that the frustration would come through in her voice, she just hoped that no one would take it seriously_. I would like to think that my crew would know me by now._

"Welcome everyone; I thank all of you for making it to this unscheduled meeting." Angseth began. She could read their faces around her, each one was suddenly under the metaphysical gun, and hoped to get out unscathed. "As most of you are aware by now we have had a flood of reports on the status of this craft pass through each of us. I would like to know exactly how bad off we are and if I need to ask another ship to take our place on this mission. I'll need to review all of your inventory numbers, and try to get to the bottom of why I have so many of these reports piling up." She reached the end of the room, and calmly pulled Serec's glasses from his face. "Chat later Serec." Serec smiled sheepishly and slipped the glasses into his pocket. "I would also like to know, that if the ship is not falling apart, why do I have all these reports telling me otherwise?" Angseth continued, walking back to the other end of the room toward her waiting seat. "Bearn, if you wouldn't mind telling me about the medical bay?"

"Yes Captain. I believe that in the event that we see combat on this mission, then the recently acquired medical supplies won't be of much use. We received a box containing antibiotics that had already reached their half-life.:

"But for the moment, nothing that we can't handle?" Angseth asked.

"For the moment,"

Angseth nodded. "Xon, how goes the kitchen?"

Xon was of an alien race of aquatic creatures. He had no feet or arms, but instead shuffled and pulled himself along using any of the fifteen tentacles connected to his central body. Angseth had always been amused that one of her best chefs looked like he belonged in a pot instead of tending them. Xon spoke with the aid of a translator and vocal box. Even though programming had been improving in recent years, they still hadn't eliminated the mechanical delivery the vocal box emitted. "With careful planning we can make the best of our food supplies." His many tentacles flew over the holo-keys pulling up a few charts and schematics. "We have already accounted for all possible outcomes in the event that conditions do not improve."

"I trust you on that." Angseth was lost when it came to the kitchen. She always considered herself the type that could burn water. "Briar?"

"As far as the weapons are concerned, they may be low-grade but are still good to use. We also received more blasting compound than I had anticipated. All is well with the crew aside from the occasional scuffle on board."

Angseth nodded. "So what all of you mean to tell me is, that while our supplies might not be as high-grade as we're accustomed to, we're not exactly in dire-straits yet."

Nervous glances all around.

"I suggest, that while it may be a bit uncomfortable for a little while, this situation is by no means—"

"Captain?"

Angseth paused, then looked across the room at the com speaker on the ceiling. If either Thomas or Svenson was behind this… "I thought I had stated that this is a closed meeting."

"I am very sorry to interrupt Captain, but we're receiving an SOS from the SK-48 station."

The room grew silent and still. The station was an essential refueling point on their way to SR3-88. She had been counting on stopping for minor repairs and to refresh her supplies. The biggest worry consuming everyone present was that SK-48 was a _station_. Stations didn't emit an SOS unless there was a damn good reason for it. SK-48, also known as the _Seattle, _was a large outer-edge station that was equipped with it's own military base and complement of marines and fighter wings. If the _Seattle_ was calling for help, Angseth highly doubted that two battle ships and a science vessel could do much for them.

Angseth stood from her seat. "I'll be on the bridge shortly. I take it Thomas and Svenson have already hailed us?"

"Yes Captain."

"Keep them on hold for another five minutes."

"Aye Captain."

She looked around at her officers. "It looks like our priorities have changed, we will continue this meeting after the situation on the _Seattle_ has been dealt with. Until then you are dismissed."

Serec and Briar were the first two out the door, followed quickly by Zaine Bearn. They each had their own jobs to do, and not much time to get ready. Angseth was the last to leave the room, turning off the lights as she left. On her way to the bridge she went over protocol in her mind. This wasn't the first SOS she had answered, and probably wouldn't be the last. She was bound by numerous treaties to answer any distress call regardless of the nature of their mission. The Confederation was not kind to Captains who didn't answer distress calls. Angseth had witnessed quite a few of her fellow captains lose their jobs and in one case, his freedom, due to failure to answer a distress beacon.

As she stepped onto the bridge, she could already see the holograms of Svenson and Thomas hovering next to her throne. Angseth pushed off the floor, then pulled herself into her seat. She took in a deep breath, then pressed the com button at the side of her chair.

"Captain Angseth,"

"Svenson, Thomas." She leaned back in her seat, focusing on the main screen hovering before her.

"I take it you have received the same distress beacon as the two of us have."

"Yes, I've already begun assembling a team to investigate."

"If you wouldn't mind, Captain, I have already readied an away team to assess the situation." Captain Thomas spoke.

Angseth did have to admit, the boy was quick on the uptake. "SK-48 is a heavily guarded station Captain Thomas. One away team will not be sufficient. I will have my own marines investigate. Captain Thomas, please hold your position and take a defensive post near the _Socrates_, if you are needed, I will call for you."

"But Captain-"

"Svenson, please conduct a series of long-range scans to see if there are any other dangers in the area."

"Yes Captain."

Angseth tried to read the faces of Thomas and Svenson through the holo-gram avatars. Svenson looked disgruntled, but would obey. Thomas had settled into that now-familiar idiot's grin. The idiot's grin that Angseth had mistaken for youthful inexperience until this moment. At this moment she could finally see that grin for what it really was. Captain Thomas was damn good at hiding his thoughts. She doubted that any of her espers on board could read any further into that smile than she already had. The smile was just a smile, but his eyes gave him away for a moment. The boy knew something, his eyes and ready grin betrayed his cover. For that moment he looked much older than twenty, much older than even Angseth herself. She would have to keep a good eye on him. Pull him closer so she could observe him. With him on the _Regal_, and herself on the _Mabus_, that could prove difficult. Angseth could lure him in with stories, but no, that would put her on his turf, besides, her memories were not to be used as leverage.

For a moment Angseth racked her brain for a seemingly innocent way of getting him to crack. Then she had it. Thomas had never been in combat for one second of his life. She on the other hand had been forged and beaten on the battlefield.

The holograms faded. Angseth pressed the com button again. "Briar?"

"Yes Captain?"

"Ready a boarding team. Full armor. I'll be joining you."

"Captain?"

"Those are your orders Lieutenant."

"Yes Captain."

* * *

*Authors Note: A very big thank you to The Tailed Madman for his beta reading efforts!


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3:**

SK-48, also known as the _Seattle_, was a large piece of floating metal perched in this lonely stretch of deep space. Initially the _Seattle_ had been founded as a refueling point for craft bound for the Outer Reaches and the Iesrec mining rings. The station itself had outlasted the mining operation, however, unlike others of its kind it didn't fall into ruin. Instead the Federation, and later the Confederation, worked to keep it as a valuable outpost in this sector. Angseth remembered when she had read in the news that the _Seattle_ had officially gained Fort status. With all the Confederate money flowing into the outpost, it was only a matter of time before civilians began pouring in, creating satellite colonies around the main bulk of the station. Since the _Seattle_ wasn't in orbit around a star or planet, construction was very lenient and therefore resembled a multi-legged crab stretching out in all directions. Each new housing dome and work center acting as joints inter-connected with transport and stabilization tubes. Briar seemed to have described it best when he said that the _Seattle_ resembled tree roots reaching out in search of resources.

It was unheard of that a station of this size and status would have fallen to anything short of an invasion from enemies beyond the Border Frontier. At any given time the _Seattle_ boasted two flagships, one hundred Phoenix-Class Battleships, two hundred Neptune-Class Battleships, and well over two thousand fighters, and the assorted mess of smaller vessels that went with them. In short; the _Seattle_ was home to a third of Mirson's fleet. A third of his fleet and their families.

Angseth hoped the SOS was a glitch, perhaps some Ensign had leaned on the big red buttons that lined the back wall of the bridge of the _Seattle_. She didn't want to think about the friends she had aboard the station. If something had invaded, then the _Mabus_, the _Regal_ and the _Socrates_ were not going to be enough to take it back.

The bridge of the _Mabus_ was quiet as Angseth took to her chair, her power suit half-equipped. She only had time to don the torso plating, boots, grieves, and bracers. She was still shy her gauntlets, helmet, secondary and tertiary power supplies. Her crew had been conducting an in-depth scan of the area around the station, and it seemed that the first images were just beginning to come back. Scans of this nature could only show frozen images, albeit highly detailed ones. Each section of the image was assigned a grid number for easier reference when studying. The scans were not encouraging.

The _Seattle_ looked deserted. Debris floated in massive clusters orbiting the station, entire domes had been shattered and gutted. Angseth scanned the images, there were pieces of fighter ships scattered in the wreckage, like odd bits of twigs and leaves washed up after a heavy storm. In one frame she could make out the hull of a craft, a Confederation vessel; the _Beethoven_. "By the Lady." She whispered under her breath before calling out to her communications officer. "Open a hailing frequency."

"No response. The _Seattle_'s main computer appears to have been locked."

Angseth's brow furrowed. "Can you trace the SOS?"

"It is coming from the station, a redundancy of the main computer."

Angseth began pulling up holograms of the _Seattle_'s statistics. "Raise shields, and ready the weapons. Please wait for my signal." She packaged as much information as she could and sent a brief report to Admiral Mirson, requesting immediate back-up in the sector. That done, Angseth hesitated to bring up Thomas and Svenson. Almost as soon as his holo appeared Thomas spoke.

"Captain Angseth, do you have any contact?"

"Not as of yet. Thomas, please circle around to the starboard side of the _Seattle_. Svenson, have you received any new information from your long-range scans?"

"No other activity in the area, in fact it seems as there hasn't been activity here for at least a week. The _Seattle_ itself is heavily damaged. There seems to be an irregularity in the station's main reactors however, that we can't sort out. The reactors themselves are causing fluctuations through the station that seem to be causing quite a bit of damage."

Angseth nodded, and spoke to her own crew on the bridge. "Take the _Mabus_ in slowly, keep the scans up. If anything so much as breathes I want to know about it."

She began importing the scan files to the holograms around her captain's throne, scrutinizing the images. Yes, there were a lot of Confederation vessel debris; however there were other mechanical pieces that didn't seem to belong to either the _Seattle_ or the Confederation ships. More scans were coming in than she could study herself. Angseth momentarily glanced at the main view screen when something caught her eye. "What is that?"

"Captain?"

"Enhance the points between 20,10,65 and 30,20,75."

The main screen brought up the image of the left side of the station, an area where it seemed more wreckage had broken away and now floated freely in the void. She studied the image. There was something off about the debris, perhaps the way it was scattered, or what it might have been at one point. Angseth leaned forward in her chair.

"That's a piece of a hull from a pirate frigate." She said aloud. Now that she knew what she was looking for, all the bits of random debris made sense. She leaned back and began running over all the scans again. Here, there, along the outer perimeter of the station were pieces and bits of Pirate technology. In the light of the situation, there seemed to be little Confederation debris to match those of the pirates. The _Seattle_ was intact, with minor damages considering the operation that took place here. "Is there a safe place to dock our drop-ships?"

"Deck C appears to be mostly intact. However atmospheric readings are erratic. It seems as if the station is also initiating gravity fluctuations." Lieutenant Osa turned her eyes toward Angseth. "I am also receiving readings of possible survivors on deck A in the vicinity of the main computer terminal."

Thomas was suddenly on Angseth's com. "May I suggest that our two ships send in a boarding party to cover more ground in a station of this size?"

Angseth stared for a moment at his smiling hologram. This young-in was itching for some kind of action, and yee-doggie, wouldn't this look nice on his permanent record? She pondered for a moment. As much as she could respect a fellow captain, she had an issue of trust with ones she had never worked with before. Right now she couldn't trust Thomas or Svenson, but as annoying as Svenson was, he knew when to keep quiet. Thomas on the other hand was the first to interject with some kind of textbook battle scenario. The only thing that saved her from thoroughly chewing him out was the fact that most of his ideas were actually good ones. If he did send in a boarding party, she sure as hell didn't want to leave him alone. No, this boy she would keep an eye on.

"Captain Thomas. I will send down a boarding party of fifty. I suggest that you do the same. Our troops have two objectives; first is to search A deck and see if there are any survivors. Our second objective is to go to the engine room and shut down the reactors. If we prevent those reactors from causing any more damage, then we can still salvage the station."

"Excellent."

"Oh, and Thomas,"

"Yes?"

"I will be joining my troops. I'm inviting you to come with me."

"But a commanding officer is supposed to remain on their craft-"

Angseth didn't need to say a word, the answer was already there in her eyes. For once that smile melted off Thomas's face, It was time to give the child a hazing in trial by fire. He was book smart, yes, but he had never spent a day in his professional career with a gun on his arm outside of the shooting range. Angseth carried the respect of her crew because she was more than willing to put herself in the same situations that she asked of her marines. Thomas would have to learn a few things about being in deep space, far away from all civilization. It wasn't the stripes or stars that one had on their sleeve that made a leader, it was their ability to actually lead that enabled great things to be done. She had seen quite a few crews mutiny even in Confederation ships because their Captain wasn't an effective leader. Thankfully, a crew had never rebelled against her. If Thomas didn't prove his worth to his troops, they wouldn't let him have a second chance.

This far out in space. Rules were bent and woven into intricate baskets.

"Yes Captain Angseth. I will join you on Deck A." he conceded.

"Who said anything about Deck A? We're going to shut down those reactors."

The paling of Thomas's features before his hologram faded was enough to make her smile. Oh yes, eaten alive. In a way she was doing him a favor. There had been possible signs of life on Deck A. The life signatures did not discriminate between friend and foe. All they knew is that there were living things on Deck A, and she would be taking him where there were no living things. Hence, no danger to him.

Angseth slipped one of her gauntlets on and called out. "Captain Svenson?"

"Yes Captain Angseth?"

"Please ready a report and notify command of the fate of SK-48."

Svenson's hologram held steady for a moment before he said, "Yes Captain. And what should the _Socrates_ do while the two of you are frolicking in the dilapidated heap?"

Angseth ignored that comment. Between Thomas's inexperience and Svenson's attitude, she had her hands full. Svenson's image eventually faded. Humans were humans, and every living creature was entitled to their own opinion. Humans had this weird dance of morality and survival that held sway over all they did. Beings like Briar often commanded respect just from a few movements or a well-timed growl. Perhaps she should send Briar over to deal with the two of them more often.

"Captain?"

Angseth looked over the side of her chair down at Lieutenant Briar.

"The drop-ships are ready."

"I'll be there shortly." Angseth slid her last gauntlet on and then reached for her helmet. "Lieutenant Bagra, you have the bridge."

Briar left the bridge and Angseth followed. On the way down to the main loading bay, she ran a diagnostic on her power suit, booting up each system she felt would be necessary. When they reached the armory she stepped inside and grabbed her favorite rifle. Years ago the Confederation had switched to a more convenient power cannon model that most marine power suits came with standard. Angseth refused to lose the ability to use one hand for the sake of having a bigger boom-stick. Instead, she stuck with what she came to use well; a power rifle with rail-gun capabilities. This weapon had yet to lead her astray, it took galactic standard rounds, with slight modifications for different rounds. Each clip held roughly two hundred rounds, with a pulse weapon that used energy directly through her suit. She could choose to charge a pulse shot, or use the extra charge to enhance the range and power of a standard round. Her rifle had all the perks of a standard issue power cannon, yet it also had the flexibility of an external unit.

The loading bay was busy as usual; two drop-ships had been pulled aside and were taking in marines. As Angseth approached the group they saluted and stood at attention. Angseth let the men go about their work, and stepped aboard one of the drop ships, taking a seat in the cockpit behind the pilot. From there she synchronized radio frequencies and channels. Briar soon sat down beside her, power cannon resting in his lap.

"Captain?"

"Routine escort mission my ass." Angseth spat.

Briar smiled and straightened his shoulders.

Within moments the troops had been loaded and they were off.

* * *

The moment the airlock hissed open, something felt wrong. The drop-ships had come in on the western half of the station, the side that seemed to be the most intact. They had been joined by Thomas's troops in their own drop-ship. The two groups poured into the station, taking up defensive positions at the corridors, and behind any stable object they could find. Angseth was the last to enter the hall, head down and rifle at the ready. She too found an easily defended point with two other troops, Thomas following in her shadow.

They had come through the umbilical into what seemed at first to be a commerce area of the station. All around them shops opened up off a large mall, over four stories high. The lights inside most of them had been turned off, and gates had been shut to close off any potential prowlers. A lot of good that did when there was broken glass and scorched walls around. The place was completely deserted. No people picking through the remnants of their businesses, no guards posted in the halls, all around there was only destruction.

"Captain,"

"I hear it."

The PA system was still pumping out songs to amuse those that were present; somehow a commercial for soap didn't seem like ideal background music for this situation. The mall seemed fairly normal, save for all the plasma burns and scorched clothing littering the floor. Angseth looked over the rubble, and to her it seemed as if someone had detonated a bomb inside of a department store.

The troops carefully moved further up the mall, taking refuge behind benches and fountains. One of Commander Bearns sergeants came over the com. "Well, At least my favorite store was untouched. Care to go shopping later with me Captain?"

Angseth chuckled. "I'll think about it."

"This is not the time to discuss those things ladies." Thomas said over the com. Angseth turned and studied him. She thought that she had heard it in his voice, but didn't believe it until she saw it. Thomas was scared. Oh yes, he was scared, and that little outburst was his vain attempt to regain control of the situation. Here they were, crouched down beside a fountain in what remained of a great station, and the good Captain of the _Regal_ was practically wetting his pants.

"All clear Captain."

The marines stood from their places, and gathered to discuss details. Angseth looked around the group, one hundred strong. At least Thomas was standing up straight. The two Captains were easy to pick out of the group, each Captain wore a black power suit with slightly different modifications than the standard issue gray models of the other marines, and rank was denoted by twin white bars that circled the bicep of each arm. An Admiral would have three bands, with any number of stars depicting the forces under their command. Angseth wished she didn't have those twin bands on her suit, as they made her an easy target. Just aim for the one that stood out. She opened up the comline and began to give orders. She performed a quick scan of the available marines and divided them into three groups. Alpha, Beta, and Delta.

"Commander Dean, you have Alpha team, please proceed to the Main Command of the _Seattle_ and check for survivors. Download any information that you can on what happened here. Commander Bearn, you have Beta team. Your task is to go down to the main reactor and deactivate it. Myself and Captain Thomas will accompany you. Lieutenant Commander Briar, you have command of Delta, please secure this area as we will use it as a base of operations."

"Permission to raid the food court Captain?"

"Provided that you can pay for it." Angseth slung her rifle over her shoulder. "Lets get moving."

The troops scattered, each going their own respective routes. Thomas once again opened a com line between himself and Angseth. "So many things that you are doing right now are so far beyond regulation that I must insist on an explanation!"

Angseth shook her head and then asked. "Thomas, have you ever been on an exercise outside a training mission?"

"No…I really haven't."

"Then you haven't stood in the boots of any one of these fine men and women have you?"

"I can't say that I have,"

"And they know that. They can tell just by looking at you. You can give the order to overtake a force, or tell them to keep put. Works fine in training sims, when all your troops are just numbers with more lines of code backing them, but these are not lines of code. These are real living creatures with very real thoughts and emotions."

"I know that Captain."

"Do you? Then show them that you too are a creature of real thoughts and emotions. Works a hell of a lot better than just handing out orders." Angseth paused as Beta squad came across the blown-out hole of an elevator. "Damn. We'll have to walk."

"One thing has been bothering me Captain."

"What's that Sergeant Naka?"

"Where are all the bodies? I see plenty of destruction, but no bodies."

Angseth paused and looked around. That was disturbing. There was no blood, spilled fluids or anything else to denote that a living creature had passed through here. "I do find that a little creepy myself."

She took a defensive position by the door of the freight elevator as her troops forced it open. Thomas had gone silent again, like a child following in his mother's shadow. After a moment the marines forced the door open, and they peeked into the shaft. There was no gravity in the elevator shaft, and it was dark. Angseth peeked around the corner down into the infinite black of the shaft, pieced only by a few points of light. "Ever use your booster pack Thomas?"

"Yes—"

"Good, I don't have to teach you that." Angseth pulled up the map of the station and began researching it. "We'll need to head down to Deck F, third quadrant."

Half of the men were already in the elevator shaft and heading down. Thomas stood at the edge peeking over. "But I-"

Angseth was getting tired of this, this man was a _Captain_. She had been nice until now. Angseth took a step forward and planted her cybernetic foot dead center of his back, shoving him into the shaft. Let him go report it to Mirson, let him complain all his wants. Angseth wasn't going to lose any men on this mission, and certainly not this spoiled brat of a Captain. Angseth followed him, giving small pulse commands to her booster pack to carry her forward in the right direction. They held close to the walls, using random bits of piping or wiring to push themselves along. There was no need to use their booster packs more than was necessary. The packs were effective, but also noisy. They needed all the stealth a group of forty could muster.

"Please stay close to me Thomas."

"I know how to operate in zero gravity."

"Thomas, no offense, but you haven't proved that you know much about operating anything except a com button."

The silence on the other end was a good enough response.

Angseth continued to push herself down along the wall, sticking close to the marine ahead of her; Commander Bearn. "Captain?"

"Yes?"

"Scouts are telling me that we have some heavy damage ahead. The shaft is blown shut."

"Well, we couldn't expect smooth sailing all the way down to the engineering deck. Where are we now?"

"Scanners indicate that we are perpendicular to deck F-23."

"And the engineering decks are on Q-7 through R-10." Angseth finished. "Blast open the nearest door, we'll see if we can find another elevator, or even a trash chute. Anything that will get us a straight shot on down to Q." she commed Briar. "Lieutenant Briar, what does the F sector look like?"

"Major gravity fluctuations. You're lucky most of your troops are used to higher gravity. I'm reading anything from zero to fifteen G's"

"Security systems?"

"Mostly offline…or damaged."

"Beautiful." Angseth hung back while Sergeant Naka instructed others on the finer points of opening the nearest door. Thomas still floated nearby, clinging to the wall like an insect . Angseth had to give him credit for something, the boy was a fast learner. The door screeched open, and three marines clung to the right side of the door, using a crank to manually open it. These doors were beyond using a minor blast to jump start the opening mechanism. As the door clicked into place, two marines slipped through. An "all clear" signal was given, and the rest of the platoon slipped through the open door.

The first thing Angseth noticed after landing on the other side was the intense gravity. Her HUD told her that the current gravity registered a ten. She could see lights all around as most of her troops turned on their anti-gravity systems. One voice came over the general line, "Oh that's more like it."

"Is this how heavy it usually is on Rast?" Angseth asked.

"Yeah."

Angseth nodded. Some of her troops came from super-dense worlds. That was good, at least one of her troops would be used to moving in the heavier patches. The entirety of decks F-1 through L-25 were residential. Angseth had been anticipating a massacre but what they found was more disturbing. There was absolutely nobody home. All the apartments and homes they peeked into were empty. Furniture still decorated most homes, but it seemed as if there had been a mass evacuation. If the _Seattle_ had been evacuated, Angseth would have heard about it. People with good jobs and homes didn't just suddenly pack up and move without good reason. They soon came to another elevator shaft, and began their journey down to Q decks. Thomas had been quiet. Angseth peeked over her shoulder on occasion to see if he was still there and hadn't slipped down a corroded shaft or encountered some other danger. She had spoken a little harshly to him, but didn't think it would hit him that badly. He had that look that most troops had when they had been fighting for too long. A sort of vacant auto-pilot expression, almost as if he was focusing on something else, anything else but what he was doing right now.

Beta team moved through more residential areas, recreation, some business districts, before finally arriving at the engineering wing on Q deck. They had to back-track a few times due to locked doors with no point of entry. The Engineering Wing was sealed up tight. Even if there had been a core meltdown, the engineers still wouldn't have locked it up this tightly. They finally reached the last door they had as an option. This had to be the place most of the fighting happened, the main doors themselves were covered in scorches and blast marks that told of a massive battle. Angseth once again stood at the ready at the side of the door. Her troops moved in and pried it open. As expected, the mechanism had been burned out to the point that nothing short of brute force could move it. The metal of the door had been warped and mangled, they wouldn't be able to open it very far. She watched as her troops pulled and pushed, using all manner of prying equipment before the door budged the necessary two feet for everyone to squeeze through. Angseth looked back up at Thomas again. He had been quiet, his eyes had a thoughtful expression she had never really seen in him before.

"Captain Thomas?"

"Yes?"

"Everything okay?"

"Yes Captain Angseth."

Angseth didn't press any further, it was possible that her plan had backfired, but now at least she was a little more familiar with his moods and general lack of experience. Her squad moved into position beside the doors, before the first two marines slipped inside. This had always been one of the most dangerous ways to move into an unknown area, nothing would mow down a squad faster than running into a bottle neck one by one.

"Bingo."

Angseth looked up to the entry point as that call went over the com. "What is it?" She asked.

"Bodies. Almost everywhere. Looks like it had been a full-scale Pirate invasion."

She took in a deep breath as the last few members of her squad slipped inside. She nodded to Thomas and carefully moved her body through the crack. Thomas followed. The engineering levels were a war zone. The walls had been compromised or were completely missing altogether. The floor and ceiling had been ripped to shreds, blasted, burned, and melted. There were bodies here. At first glance Angseth could see no bodies of humans or other Confederation races. The troops spread out and began inspecting various passages and halls leading off the main lobby. Angseth hung behind with the main bulk of the force as reports came in of more dead Pirates. Once the level had been cleared of any threats, Angseth began to personally inspect the area.

As long as the Pirates stayed dead she could cope. There was a sizable Marine presence here, however not nearly enough to fend off an invasion of this magnitude. The moment the door to the main engineering terminals opened Angseth looked down at her first body.

This Pirate was leaning against the reception desk with a sizable hole blasted through its chest, splatter marks around the room however told her that this poor soul had been shot mid-air and fell to this point. The desk was covered in gore, the computer systems placed on standby. The more she looked at the Pirate the more something in the back of her mind told her that something was horribly wrong with this picture. This was the main office area, completely encased in glass. Every office could be seen from this one point. The Engineering chiefs office was up a short hall, a break room, small kitchen, and records room were on the right, with a receptionist desk taking up the center space. The glass had been shattered, leaving every room open and exposed. However this was the only body in here. Why would the Pirates have needed to come in here? And where were all the human remains? There weren't even any papers on the desk and the computer had been shut down.

She turned her attention to the Pirate again, reaching out with her rifle and poked the body. She felt like a child taking a stick to dissect an interesting bug. The Pirates body moved slightly, rigor mortis had already set in.

_ That's not right._

Angseth pulled her rifle back and knelt before the body. "Something picked this guy up and turned its torso a complete one hundred eighty degrees." She said over the com line.

"How can you tell Captain?"

"Check your scanners."

"What could have done that?"

"A pissed heavy-worlder perhaps." Angseth stood. "More important to me is why would it have been done? It's obvious the plasma-shot killed the Pirate, why put forth the extra effort to twist it so?"

"There are no other bodies in the office area. Everything looks to be completely untouched. The files, the offices, even the money in someone's piggy bank."

"We can ponder this later." Angseth began to walk out of the office area. Thomas hung back by the door, looking in with a sober expression. "Bearn, where is the main control room?" She called out to the Commander.

"Up this hall and to the left. More bodies scattered up that way too."

"Any human casualties?"

"So far they all seem to be Pirates."

Angseth passed by Thomas and began walking up the hall again. More Pirate bodies littered the corridor. One stood out from the others however, prompting Angseth to pause by this one as well. From this distance either it was a very thin Pirate or it had been severely malnourished. It wasn't very often that she had to access her different scans to determine the fate of an individual. The scanner hummed for a moment, then beeped. "It seems…that all moisture had been drained from it." She knelt again and reached out pulling the faceplate free of the helmet. The Pirates skin flaked off and fell away, like dry leaves. The armor itself was just covering the withered frame of this poor Pirate.

"What could have caused that?"

Angseth almost jumped. She turned and saw Thomas peeking over her shoulder. The faceplate slipped from her hands, taking more of the dried skin with it. "It couldn't have been incinerated. The only way I know how to describe it is mummification." She stood up again, still looking down at the body. "What the hell happened here?"

"We should go. Pull our men out and continue on. There is no one left alive to save."

"You have so much to learn Thomas." Angseth shouldered her rifle again. She began walking toward the main control room. She would not let this get to her, as disturbing as it was. Dead Pirates were a good thing. However there was no way in a station of this size that one could have practically a fleet of dead pirates and not one other casualty. It didn't make any sense. She opened up the main com and called out. "Beta Team. Have you made it to the bridge yet?"

The com clicked once and Commander Deans voice came through somewhat distorted. "_Yes, it seems as if the last survivors of the station had barricaded themselves in here. The doors had been welded shut."_

"Had you found any life signs?"

"_Yes. We tracked down the psychic signatures and found five people in cryo-statis. All of the life pods had been ejected from the bridge."_

"Have you accessed the main computer yet?"

_ "From what we can…frozen…"_ The static grew heavier, covering his voice.

"Repeat, Commander Dean?"

_ "…Signal…breaking…Com…ter…Delta."_

Angseth tapped the side of her helmet. She had filaments burn out on her in mid-conversation before. The Confederation could be so cheap with their equipment. Just before she had been talking with her own Beta team just fine. There was no good reason why she couldn't make out Alpha team. She didn't like this one bit, too many things here just didn't feel right. The dead Pirates, the lack of Confederation citizens, living or deceased. Now something was preventing her communication with her troops. She had to shut down the main reactors before she left. Left unsupervised they could overload and blow up, turning the entire station into a field of little razor blades, rendering travel through this area impossible. She could just imagine Admiral Mirson getting some sadistic pleasure out of chewing her out for it. Angseth opened the com again and this time called Briar.

_ "Yes Captain?"_ his voice was a little clearer, but still that under lay of static.

"Have you kept in touch with Alpha?"

_ "Yes, they just reported your signal break up."_

"What's going on?"

_ "Not really sure, but we have a theory it might have to do with your close proximity to the core reactors. One of them might have sprung a radiation leak and that's what messing up the com channel. Nothing our power suits can't handle however."_

"Have they found anything?"

_ "Five bodies in cryo, all the life pods gone, and the computer locked up tighter than a Vestal Virgin at Beltane."_

Angseth smirked then said over the com. "We'll wrap things up as quickly as we can down here. I'm really not comfortable with the whole situation."

_ "Take care."  
_

Angseth kept her com open on the main line, often called the "party line" because it often had three or more individual conversations occurring at once. Thomas was still hanging back by the office areas, looking between the two dead pirates; the twisted and the mummified. She walked further up the hall to the main doors of the engineering control room where four of her men were working at the lock to pry it open. She stood at the side again, back to the wall, gun at the ready. Thomas was just now walking over to join them.

More blast and burn marks scorched this end of the hall. Angseth felt a vibration under her back and watched as the men jumped out of the way. The door hissed open and they all stood ready. Thoughts moved through Angseth's mind of a platoon of mummified Pirates lurching their way from the darkness. _Stop that right now. You know your own imagination is your own worst enemy at times like this Vera._ She smiled as she pushed the thought away, _Then again, if they lurch toward you, they'll make an easier target._ Okay, so seeing that Pirate in the hall had gotten to her. Her mind was only willing to admit a slight influence.

After a moment Commander Bearn peeked into the hall, then gave an "all clear" signal. The troops fell into formation, then moved into the main engineering control room. At one point in time, this room might have been quite neat and efficient. They could see the computer grids lining the walls, full-holographic interface, tables, chairs, even a coffee machine in one corner. Now there was only chaos. The tables and chairs had been cast around the room, burned, blasted, incinerated, papers lay strewn amidst the debris, parts of the floor grating had been warped and torn, ripped open by some massive force. The holographic projector system, probably someone's pride and joy, had been destroyed. The main projector had fallen from its anchoring point in the ceiling and had crashed onto and, partially through, the floor. Angseth kept her eyes on the floor, she hated uneven terrain. The floor itself was constructed from a system of grates that overlaid something that looked like a maze underneath. She studied it for a moment, then realized that it wasn't a maze, but a graphic depiction of the power flow through the station.

"Captain, what the hell is that?"

Angseth tore her gaze from the floor and saw one of her troops gesturing with his power cannon. It took her a moment to fully register his question. At first she wondered what he was pointing toward. It looked like a wall, like any of the others, a large and off-color chunk of it...but then she saw the foot.

She paused as her mind began placing pieces together now that she had some kind of recognition point. She identified a clawed foot, connected to a leg, buttocks, and a wide expanse of back. Angseth had to take a step back just to get the whole thing into perspective. Some large, headless, armor-clad giant lay crumpled against the far wall. Blood had long since emptied from the wound, creating a black sticky mess across the floor.

"Captain, do you know what that is?"

Without realizing it, Angseth had pointed her rifle at the body. "Its an Omega Pirate. Hopefully dead like the others."

"Its missing its head."

"A cockroach can live without its head for two weeks. And only that long because it starves to death." Angseth's eyes began searching the room for any other surprises she might have missed. "Those things are very dangerous. Usually where you find one you will find more."

"Have you ever had to fight one Captain?"

"Yes and pray you never have to." Angseth began to call out orders. "Alright, lets get this over with as soon as possible! Bearn, have your men hack into the system and shut down those reactors, Naka, I want guards posted at every corner. Everyone keep on your toes or tentacles! All the Pirates we have encountered so far have been dead, let's keep it that way!" Angseth looked over at Thomas as the troops began to fan out to different points of the room. She kept a constant bead on the Omega Pirate. It was still dead. Angseth still didn't trust that corpse, she had seen these things locked up in stasis, they looked dead then too. The body was so big it was disturbing. When walking by it her men put some distance between it and themselves. Angseth walked to the center of the room where the holo-projector had fallen. Some, but not all of her fears settled, and more questions were raised when she saw that the Omega Pirates head had been neatly skewered under the projector. "It shouldn't get back up without its head." She whispered. Curiosity getting the better of her she reached out with her rifle and nudged the head.

Angseth felt as well as heard the floor underneath her groan.

_ I really should have stayed aboard the _Mabus_ today._

The floor gave way. Angseth fell hard on her rear as the grating tilted at a thirty five degree angle, her right hand held tightly to her rifle while her left clawed for something that could pass as a grip. Her body began to slip down a newly opened crevice. "Oh shit," Angseth said calmly when she realized that like it or not, she was going down.

"Captain?"

Bearn looked up from his post to see his ship's Captain slide down a newly opened hole. Others rushed in from the sides in an attempt to catch her before she could fall any further. Angseth slid down the slanted floor grating, the Pirates head and most of the holo-projector coming after her. Angseth watched the projector slide into place, blocking off all light from the point where she had fallen. The projector and skewered head rolled into view, and for a moment Angseth thought that she would have to fight off this odd attempt at a cyborg rolling after her. Thankfully the head and projector caught and locked into another notch. She however, was still sliding.

Angseth quickly rolled over so she could control her decent. All that she could see before her was a dark black pit. She felt the floor grating fall away underneath her weight, and she fell with it. Her breath caught in her throat as she reached for her suit controls. Her right hand still held her rifle in a death-grip. Her fingers finally found the proper button, depressed the switch, and waited. She couldn't make out any floor, walls, or some other landmark that could reveal just where or what she was about to land on or near. For a moment she wondered if she had fallen through the exterior wall and had been accidentally spaced. Then she felt a jerk at her back and realized that the suits thrusters had finally kicked in. The light from the thrusters illuminated the floor for a moment and slowed her decent. Angseth could see that there at least _was_ a floor. That was a comforting thought. She had somewhere to land.

Angseth hit the floor and landed in a crouch. She felt the weight of the impact jar through her legs and back. Her cybernetic leg caught most of her weight, the shocks coiling as she hit the ground. The area where her real leg met the artificial one felt as if it had been lit on fire. Something had either shaken loose or she had torn more muscle. The rifle was still in her hand, and thus far there was only silence. She felt the thrusters disengage, then slowly lifted her hand to adjust her visor settings. She switched over to night vision, then looked around the room.

This room was the same size as the one above, however it was used as a storage facility. Equipment lay scattered around, on shelves or under dust cloths. She kept her gun ready as she searched the room for any other signs of life.

"_Captain! Are you alright?"_

Angseth stood after a moment, her cybernetic leg whirring as it re-calibrated. "I'm fine. I've fallen to a lower deck." She paused and pulled up a map of the station. "I'm in engineering storage locker R-10. There's no light down here. The grid appears to be offline."

"_It might be a moment before we can send someone down there. The projector and pirates head are blocking the hole."_

Lieutenant Briars voice came over the com_. "I'm sending a few of my men down there to assist Captain."_

Angseth searched the map again. "I don't know if that will be necessary. My map indicates a freight elevator less than 100 yards from here. I'll see if I can make it."

"_Alpha team reports…."_ Briars voice faded out.

Angseth tapped the side of her helmet again. "Lieutenant? Repeat, Briar?"

Static was her only response.

"Damn." Angseth took another look around the room. "Bearn, do you copy?"

"_Yes Captain. The signal is getting fuzzy."_

"Do you think that a radiation leak could have caused the break-up?"

"_Perhaps. We're getting odd temperature readings from within the main cores."_

"Get those damn things shut down as soon as possible. I'll be up there shortly. Keep trying to get in touch with Delta and Alpha team. We have got to get moving." Angseth kept the com line open, her ears searching for any sounds that could possibly lead to another communication black out. Boxes and crates were piled up around the room, some of the equipment was familiar to her, others not. All boxes, crates and equipment were stacked neatly around the room, complete with red "lock down" tags. So far there was nothing unusual here. The map indicated a hall outside the door. At the end of the hall would be the freight elevator. That elevator would provide her with access to the main engineering command room where the rest of Alpha team was.

She held her gun ready and began walking toward the door. She took two steps forward then dropped to her knee and pointed the rifle at the form next to the door. Something had suddenly registered on her scanner. The shape didn't move. Angseth went into a more in depth spectrum scan to reveal more about the shape.

Another dead pirate.

Even though no signs of life were present, Angseth kept the rifle trained on the Pirate as she moved toward the door. This one had been shot as well, shot then twisted like the other in the reception office. "I don't know what happened to you guys, and I don't really care, just as long as whatever it is doesn't get my crew as well." She turned and studied the door. There was a small green light on at the side. This door was fully operational. "Praise the Lady." She ducked back and to the side opposite the Pirate, then activated the door.

The hall outside was just as dark, with one small flickering light halfway up. That wasn't the way she was heading however. Her fate lay in the darkness. _Brilliant. Perhaps I should start writing these little gems down and make a fortune off of them._ She kept close to the hexagonal-shaped wall and crept her way toward the double door at the other end. She hadn't moved two steps when her foot touched something. Angseth paused for a moment, listening for any sounds other than herself and her troops. This whole mission was starting to get to her, and the last thing she needed was to randomly step on weird squishy objects in the middle of a deserted station.

Biting back fear and most of her breakfast, she slowly turned her gaze to the floor. A hand, a pirate hand lay under her foot. _Just a hand, just a harmless hand. Just a harmless disembodied hand. You've seen those before. Hell, you've picked them up before and chased the squeamish around with them._ Angseth still did not like stepping on them however. She scanned the rest of the floor, and then held her rifle even tighter. Lining the hall toward the elevator were roughly ten bodies of dead pirates. Angseth had to say roughly because the bodies were in various stages of dismemberment.

"I'm about to step on a lot of hands." She muttered, then lifted her leg and began picking her way across the floor, occasionally using the toe of her boot to nudge a body-part out of the way. Angseth kept her eyes fixed dead-ahead of her, the elevator or elevator shaft would be there, and she could get back to her troops, back to her ship, and get a nice hot shower, and..

Beside her, to her right, there came a bright point of light. At first Angseth froze, not knowing what to make of it. Perhaps it was a sight on a laser rifle, or random bug? Slowly she turned her head to the side and began to study the light; it was small and orange, and for a moment the filters on her scanner flipped through a few screens until it settled on standard vision. Angseth could now make out a door. The door was one of the larger double iris types that usually held higher security rooms behind them. The iris' themselves had not closed completely, leaving a small point of light in the center. Angseth turned and took a step toward the door, then leaned forward on tip-toe to look through it.

At first she could only make out a bright blaze of orange before her eyes and visual filters could adjust to the sudden light. Soon various features of the room became more present, allowing for greater detail to be observed. This was the main engine room. Large dynamos stood along the walls at regular intervals. They generated the electricity used to power the station, and stabilize its position in space. Hopefully her crew on the deck above was well on their way to shutting the engines down. From this point she could see five towers, their glowing coils encased in stasis fields or other hard transparent materials. She referenced her map and discovered that this room continued down for another five decks. This engine room was also one of five others. As she studied she could make out odd shapes slowly climbing their way up the sides and almost to the cores of the dynamos. Bearn had said something about odd temperature readings. Angseth flipped over to her thermal scan.

_Ice…why would ice form on the sides of the dynamos? Those things usually run fairly hot._

Angseth stepped back from the door, and used the side of her right foot to carefully nudge the torso of a fallen space pirate out of her way. She began searching the sides of the door, looking for an access keypad.

"_Captain Angseth?"_

Angseth jumped and covered her heart. She lifted her hand and activated the com. "Yes? Speak."

"_This is Commander Dean from Alpha team. We've managed to access the ships computer and station statistics. It seems that most of the occupants had evacuated due to increasing pirate attacks. The computer registers the last life pod as leaving over three days ago. Two days ago the computer registered a ship landing in the main docking bay."_

"When did it leave?"

"_No records exist. Reports from Beta team report success in systematic shutdown of all core reactors."_

"That's good news." Angseth listened for a moment. That underlying static was gone from her com reception. "Bearn."

"_Yes Captain."_

"I think I found the source of our temperature fluctuations. I can see the main engine room from where I stand. Some coolant must have leaked and has covered the base of the dynamos in ice." She continued to scan and search for the door mechanism. "After you have the reactors shut down, start a systematic evacuation of all our troops. Report directly to Lieutenant Briar."

"_Yes Captain."_

"Thomas."

A pause, then, _"Angseth?"_

"Get our men out of here safely. I have faith that you can do it." Angseth hoped that her words didn't convey her lack of confidence in her leadership abilities, but sometimes people just needed to hear a good word to get their shit together. Angseth sure hoped that Thomas was one of them.

"_I have a team of men working on getting the hole you fell through unblocked."_

"What about the elevator?"

"_It is blocked by the body of another Omega pirate."_

"Great." Angseth finally found the door panel that would allow her access into the main engine room. "I'm heading into the engine room to asses the extent of the ice damage."

"_We'll be down there as soon as we can."_

Angseth studied the panel for a moment. It flashed a repeating error screen, the kind the doors on her own ship flashed when someone had come by and either forcefully opened them or abused the equipment; a process that Serec had named "percussive maintenance." Thankfully she knew how to fix it. She carefully pulled the panel away from the wall and hit the manual reset switch. It emitted a small beep, then ran through its reset codes. After a moment she hit the green-lit button, and the iris before her opened into the main engine room.

Angseth stepped through onto the grating of a cat walk. A monitoring station was off to her right, encased in a plasteel booth. The screens were all on standby, a few displaying power-down procedures and over-rides. Her boys had gotten through. She walked past the screens and stood on the catwalk over-looking the main bulk of the room.

The room itself had the shape of a large cylinder, the dynamos clinging to the walls, leaving the center open. If Angseth remembered her Engineering 101 correctly, the center of the room was supposed to contain a large cooling tower that would keep the dynamos at a safe temperature. The catwalk continued around the circumference of the room, broken in areas by stairs leading down to the next level where another monitoring station was placed, along with another catwalk. This pattern continued down for five floors, or at least it should have. She walked up to the edge and peeked over, leaning on the guardrail. She could see the pieces off the cooling tower, large chunks of ice and other frozen liquids on the base level. To her untrained eye it seemed to have exploded at some point, and spilled super-coolant throughout the room. The ice climbed along the sides of the dynamos, and reached almost up to the second level of the room. There was something down there with all the ice. Something large, silver, almost spider-like.

Then it moved.

Angseth felt her breath catch suddenly in her throat. She knew that shape. She had seen it all over "wanted" bulletins and in the pages of many a captains logbook. What she had mistaken for legs were actually wings. That form down there was a Dragon, a chrome-clad lizard with ripped and tattered wings. As she studied she could make out details, and what she couldn't see her mind made up for her. She could see the crested head, long claws, serrated tail, and glowing red eyes. Yes, she had seen this form before, but always at a safe distance, always after the fact as its ferocious form raced across her holo-screen.

Angseth honestly felt that she would never encounter Ridley in her lifetime.

Holding her breath Angseth took her first careful step back from the railing. She leaned against the wall, then slowly slid down into a crouching posture as she reached for her com.

"This is Captain Angseth to all units. Repeat, Angseth to all units. I need immediate back-up in the main engine room located on deck R-10. I have spotted the leader of the Gamma Fleet Pirates known as Ridley. I repeat, requesting immediate back-up." Angseth began to move toward the door, reaching for the panel but keeping one eye at the edge of the railing, expecting that head to rise up any moment now to see her. There were so many other places she would rather be than in the same room with one of the best-known killers in the universe.

Gamma Fleet had been rated as anything from a nuisance to terrorists. Most Pirate fleets would run around for a few years, then either get caught, or fade away once satisfied with their haul. Gamma fleet was one of the only groups to make a true living off of it. They were a race of lizard/insect-like creatures, and although their true level of intelligence was a matter of debate in most academic circles. They had no discernible home world, however they roamed the far reaches of space searching for greater and more powerful technology. The Confederation considered them to be parasites; like roaches they would infest a planet and strip it of all its resources. Once it had been drained dry, they would pack up to find another world to infect. One could argue that humans and other races had done the same, however one thing set the pirates apart from any other race in the Confederation. Gamma Fleet pirates had made no contributions to known technology or culture. Everything about their way of life had been borrowed from other races.

Ridley had been labeled as the leader of Gamma Fleet. Once the pirates had infected Zebes, a world formerly occupied by an ancient race known as the Chozo. Aran had been sent in to exterminate the pirates from this world, and exterminate she did. Angseth remembered that at that point in time a lot of money had been flying around the Federation, and rumor had it the Aran had turned down the largest bounty in history for the chance to do with Zebes as she pleased. Angseth didn't have any concrete evidence, but Aran supposedly turned her back on a one followed by about fifteen zeros. Many rumors had circulated as to the relation Aran had with Ridley. Angseth didn't listen to the rumors, the only thing she had been certain of was that Aran and Ridley were enemies, and would remain such until the end of time.

Now Angseth stood on a catwalk in a room that held said dangerous creature. The door for some god-dammed reason wasn't letting up. The screen once again flashed the error message at her and the control panel was on the other side of the stupid door. If she could just hunker down long enough for help to arrive, all would be well. So far she hadn't been detected. That was good. Ridley seemed to have his attention drawn elsewhere. That could potentially be bad. Angseth lay down on the catwalk, she couldn't hide from him in this room, it was too open and too big. However, she wasn't just going to sit and cower in fear next to a broken door either. Slowly she lowered herself down onto her stomach, and peeked over the rail of the catwalk. She would keep an eye on him; forewarned was forearmed.

One skeletal wing shifted, allowing Angseth to get a better look. His hands were busy with something, but from this distance it was hard to tell what. She flipped through her different visors again until she found her point and zoom function. With this visor she could count the stripes on a bee's back at over one hundred yards. Angseth studied his hands for a moment, and felt her spirits drop.

There was a hostage.

Ridley had his large metal claws wrapped around a humanoid form, his tail arched over his shoulder ready to strike. The tip of his tail had been equipped with something that looked like a stinger and drill bit combined.

Where the frak was her back-up?

She was still too far out to make an identity the hostage, but if she pushed the visor to its limits…

"You have got to be kidding me."

Angseth almost felt her rifle slip from her hands. Clutched in Ridleys talons was the limp body of Samus Aran, Bounty Hunter and sworn enemy of the Gamma Fleet Pirates. Everything about the station now fell into place. The lack of humans, the bodies of all the pirates lining the hall. Somehow Angseth had managed to stumble into the ass-end of one of Aran's missions, but before whatever it was she was trying to save blew to smithereens. That woman down there had saved her life once, her very presence and actions provoked Angseth to fight harder, go further than she thought that she could go. Was it time to return the favor? Would she even live long enough to distract that dangerous mass of moving metal known as Ridley long enough for the Hunter to gain her feet and make an escape?

"Where the hell is my back-up?" Angseth breathed. Her heart was pounding. She had stared death in the face before, reached up and touched his cheek; however that had been long ago. Death was in her presence again, and if she didn't act quickly, he would be taking Aran back with him.

"You know," Angseth began to mutter to herself. She held her rifle up and reached for an expansion clip. "Life is funny." She rammed the clip home. "You'd think that after forty-two years of life I would have seen and done everything." She checked the relay points along her hand and the grip of the rifle to assure herself that any and all signals would go through with no obstructions. "You'd think I'd stop panicking when I'm in a room filled with insurmountable odds. I'd think I'd stop panicking when faced with them." She checked the battery life on her power suit's meter. Still at four full cells, and one emergency back-up. "I'll have to enhance all those shots with power from my suit. Normal rounds won't do frak against that tough hide." She peeked over the edge at Ridley. "Ship-grade shielding in place as well. Four-hundred rounds in the rifle, and an extra six-hundred in my pack. If I fire in fifty round bursts, I might just buy enough to time to grab her and run."

Angseth took a firm grip on her gun, and then began running down the catwalk. Head kept low and staying as close to the wall as possible. She activated as many stealth options as she could without draining her batteries life excessively. The staircase was in sight. If she could just make it then she could entrench herself in a good covered position to fire upon him. Angseth had been only ten steps away from the stairs when a roar sounded from below. The catwalk before her suddenly buckled and fell away. She felt the metal grate slip under her feet. Her body slid down the now slanted grate, and Angseth twisted herself around so she could face Ridley. As she fell, she unloaded the first fifty-round burst at that huge dragon-like head. She stopped firing, and reset in time to land on the catwalk the next level down, crouching. Once again her cybernetic leg absorbed most of the impact, and she felt it pull at her muscles.

Ridley lifted one of his huge skeletal wings and covered his head with it, the membrane acted as a transparent shield. Angseth trained her rifle on him again, and felt pinned by his scrutinizing gaze. His wing folded back, and those red eyes narrowed, studying her. Angseth cursed herself for landing on the only tier in the room at convenient "Chomp-height."

"_You must be the stupidest marine ever to have been employed in the service of the Seven Admirals."_ Ridley shifted, pinning Aran under his claw.

"Where in the name of Bright Lady is my back-up." Angseth breathed into her helmet.

Ridley's mouth opened in what could only be interpreted as a grin. _"I suppose one grease smear is as good as another."_

Angseth tucked her rifle in to her chest and rolled away from Ridley's tail as it fell against the catwalk. Angseth felt her body slip and fall again, and she unloaded another round at Ridley. Her landing this time was not as graceful. She missed the next tier, and braced herself as she slammed into the ice.

"_We're almost there Captain, we only need to blow this door!"_

"Hurry!" Angseth rolled with the landing, saving most of impact from her legs and favoring her shoulder instead. Damn it was cold down here. So cold that her thermal scans were giving her warnings. She rolled onto her back and fired upon Ridley again. He shifted and moved his wing to block most of her shots. "Frak!"

Ridley glared at her once again, only this time his mouth wasn't opening in an amused grin, but seemed to mechanically become unhinged. Angseth watched as the plasma generator under his tongue began to charge. She froze, fascinated by that sheer power about to reduce her to nothing more than a charred mass. _Move Angseth…stop looking death in the face. He will only flirt with you a few times…_

A hand fell on her cybernetic leg. For a moment Angseth was even more stunned by this sudden jarring then the inevitable fires of hell soon to rain down on her. Aran had rested her hand on Angseth's cybernetic leg. Her suit began to chime in her ear. Angseth had never heard this noise before, and it took her a moment to find the source. Her power cells were now halfway depleted. _I didn't use that much power to enhance the bursts_.

Aran lifted her right arm, and fired at Ridley. A column of condensed energy erupted from her power cannon, slamming Ridley in the jaw and forcing his mouth closed. The plasma blast he had been about to unleash backfired and billows of black smoke and flame emerged from his clenched teeth. Angseth lay stunned for a moment. Ridley was now roaring and pulling away, shying away to regroup for another attack. Angseth turned and stared at Aran's arm-cannon, wondering if the Hunter was going to follow that attack with another shot. Something seemed off about the cannon however. Something didn't quite mesh with her memory.

Samus lifted her arm from Angseth's artificial leg, and she stood.

"Hey, Aran," Angseth finally found her voice.

Captain Angseths back-up finally broke through the door at the top of the room as Ridley began to gain his wits again. Angseth studied Aran's back. Something was wrong, but she couldn't tell what. Samus still wore her Varia suit, the gold color and high-lights of it perhaps faded a bit. Her focus was soon stolen by a more persistent beeping in her ear. Her emergency energy tank was bordering on empty. _I had…four full tanks…_

Another roar of pain and anger from Ridley finally ripped Angseth from her thoughts. Samus reached down and Angseth felt that left hand rest on her leg once more. With no sign of even minor struggle, Aran lifted Angseth's entire body from the floor. She placed the power cannon against Angseth's chest, and before Angseth could react, her body was airborne. There was one last feeble blip in her ears as her armors back-up batteries were depleted and the HUD went dark.

The last thing that Angseth could feel was the unmistakable crunch of her own body slamming into five or so other marines. A distinct burn crept up her cybernetic leg, the pain pushing her into unconsciousness

* * *

Lieutenant Commander Nevada Briar had been monitoring the various gravity fluctuations within the station when Captain Angseth came over the com and had announced that the leader of the Gamma Fleet Pirates, Ridley, was present in the station. Then she had requested back-up. That was enough to send chills down his spine. Vera _never_ called for back-up. She was a strong woman who prided herself in her ability to handle and do things her way. If she was calling for back-up, things had gotten _b__ad._

Briar immediately pulled some of his forces to go and seek out their Captain. He prayed that they would take less time getting through the station than Alpha team had. He didn't care how many elevator shafts he had to blow up to get there, he would not let anything happen to his mate, not while he was present to prevent it. By the time they arrived in the engineering main control room. Alpha team had just cleared the Omega Pirate's head from the rubble. Briar did not hesitate, but activated his boosters, then jumped down the hole, followed by Captain Thomas, Commander Bearn, and the rest of Alpha team. Nevada hit the ground as his com blipped.

"_This is Beta team. We're moving out. The bridge, the computer, and all records have been secured. Power core readings have stabilized."_

Briar hissed under his breath and was about to comment when Thomas came over the line, his voice smooth and calm. "Pull out but do not leave the immediate area. Alpha team will be there shortly."

The members of Alpha team rushed forward and into the hall. Almost immediately shouts came over the com as the Marines stumbled over the bodies piled along the corridor. A few paused and began working at the door to the main engine room. Briar stood back and observed as they moved bodies and began to work on opening the door. "Lieutenant Briar to Captain Angseth. Do you copy? I repeat; Lieutenant Briar to Captain Angseth, do you copy?"

The sound of static did little to comfort him. Briar turned to the team at the doors, and once again Thomas seemed to speak for him. "Put your weight into it, get that door open."

The double door began to slowly iris open. Briar lifted his power cannon and stepped on to the remains of the catwalk along with four other marines.

"Where did the Captain say she was?"

It was at that moment one of the coils in the room shattered, sending radiation and shrapnel flying up at the marines. A dark shape sailed up from the depths of the room, either blown by the destruction of the dynamo, or by some other unseen force. Nevada only had a moment to recognize the panel showing glowing twin bars before Captain Angseth's body slammed into the group.

"Pull out!" Brair called over the com, while gaining his feet."Pull out!" He grabbed Angseth's body and began to carry it to the open door.

"What is that?" One of the Marines pointed into the orange light.

Nevada turned and felt his heart leap into his throat. It was a sight that he would never forget in his life. Rising through the flames was a skeletal chromed head. Perched on the head was a creature that seemed to be made of the fires of hell. Samus Aran, the Hunter, had braced herself on Ridley's cranium and was blasting away with everything she had into the metal skull. The door shut and locked, leaving Alpha team in darkness, surrounded by the Hunters leavings.

Briar stood dumbfounded, staring at the door. It was Thomas' voice that came over the com again.

"Keep those transports hot. We're heading out."

* * *

_**Authors note: **Once again, thank you to The Tailed Madman for his beta reading!_


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

This place was familiar. The smell of marsh, of wet moist dirt, the smell of animals, sounds of running water, small insects, large insects, flying animals, ones that swam in shallow pools of water, and those that walked on land. Angseth knew this place. This was Torvus Bog. Her body reacted with excitement that she hadn't felt in years as she opened her eyes. Tall marshland trees rose up around her, their roots seemingly hovering in mid-air, sunlight filtered through their leaves. She had been here before. Angseth remembered passing through Torvus Bog twenty years ago in the cobbled together power suit that Aran had somehow made for her. The suit had separated her from the rich environment, back then she could only touch the strong trees through cold metal fingers.

Now Vera could feel moist dirt under her bare feet, she could take in deep breaths of the scented cool breeze as it ran over her skin and through her hair. For a moment she lay still, looking around and trying to remember how she had come here. Angseth was dressed in one of her most comfortable sets of casual clothes: a loose pair of dark-colored pants and a sleeveless shirt. She placed her hands on the ground and pushed herself upward, finally pulling herself to stand. She stood on one of the few patches of dry land looking at many trails as they broke off around her, inviting her to discover whatever mysteries they may hold, or perhaps to just run along them, jumping and leaping over any fallen trees and brooks that wound their way along the ground.

Instinct kicked in, she had made her decision without conscious thought, the way things always happened in dreams. If she thought too hard, the vision would end. Angseth chose to run, she began to propel her body in a weird sprint where everything consisted of speed and velocity, and the only thing that could slow her down was the limits of her imagination. Her body never became tired, yet every sense was hyper-alert and alive. The sensation of soft moist dirt on the bottom of her feet urged her to move faster, creatures jumped from her path, or gave chase. She jumped, leaping over the first fallen tree.

Aether's wildlife and wetlands seemed to extend off to the horizons, tall trees with gnarled roots invited her to climb over and explore them as she passed their hidden nooks. She laughed, delighted with each new adventure as it unfolded. Angseth had been born and raised on an asteroid mining colony. Ever since she had first learned to walk, she had worn a suit of some kind; the rocks and dirt of the colony had been dry and devoid of any moisture or life. She remembered passing the time as a child in a small community garden in one of the higher domes of the colony. She hadn't been allowed to touch the plants, or even lie down on the small patch of grass, yet a part of her small soul called to those bushes, wanted to hide in them, commune with them.

She had left the colony when she had been fifteen, tucked safely in a bunk aboard a Federation Recruiting Vessel, scared yet thankful she had made it off those rocks and hopefully on her way to a better life. Recruiting ships rarely came by, and often times were not welcome. There had always been trading vessels, and freight ships that came, those were welcome, because they brought the outside world to _them_, to the colony. Recruit ships were turned away or chased off because as the general population of a mining colony saw it, they came to take away the next generation of miners. She could remember the day she had seen the hull of the ship docked in the main bay of the station, and how it could not have come at a better time. In another year she would have been drafted for employment mining the asteroid field to earn just enough income to keep herself alive enough to go back to work again. She had wanted out, off, and didn't care how or what she had to enlist or jump on to get away. Then this ship had docked, a _Federation _ship. Federation recruiting vessels only made it out this far in the minefields once every ten years. Most recruit ships came from other mines or various shipping agencies. Angseth remembered running back to their small three-room apartment and telling her parents about the new ship, and her intentions. Her mother had always been wary of the military, however her father had been sympathetic to his daughters desire to seek a better life for herself. With her parents blessing she ran to enlist; only to discover that she was three years shy of the minimum age requirement for a human. When told of this dilemma, her father helped to lie about her age, and the enlistment officers looked the other way as she signed the forms and took her bunk aboard the recruiting vessel. Mervera Diane Angseth never looked back.

Most of her military training took place in space aboard large fleet vessels or stations. Only the wealthy had enough money to go to schools planetside, and even though grants and financial aid had been available, Vera always felt that she wouldn't qualify, or if she had, they might discover that she was far to young to be in the military. She instead studied everything she could get her hands on, talked to her fellow soldiers, learned new dialects and technologies.

It was in the mess halls and firing ranges that she had first heard about Samus Aran. Usually bounty hunters were considered scum, who only took missions or killed for money, but the stories of Aran were different, they spoke of an individual who actually possessed a code of honor. Angseth found it fascinating that one person could inflict and cause so much damage. Everyone she spoke to had said the same thing. "Aran doesn't do it, it's that suit he wears, Chozo technology."

After hearing the same answer so many times, Angseth came to a realization about her fellow soldiers; they never took into account the skill of the person inside the suit. All the technology and heavy armor in the universe wasn't going to boost your IQ or problem solving skills, if that had been the case, then any sack of meat could do the same. Ever since, Angseth adopted the mindset that one had to use the tools at their disposal to their utmost.

A flash of gold through the trees caught her eye, pulling her from this odd tangent down memory lane. Angseth knew who it was even before she could get a clear view.

Aran.

Angseth altered her course, jumping through a few thick bushes and ferns to pursue her, the Hunter now the Hunted, Angseth came within thirty feet of Aran, close enough to make out the armor, to see the different tones of gold and red metal. The marsh had given way to forest now, the trees opened to expose a large ditch or gully before them. Aran extended her left arm and shot a grapple beam. Angseth could hear the buzzing sound as the beam cut through the air and snagged an overhanging branch. Aran swung out over the gully and landed on the other side, running at full speed once more.

_ I can do anything you can, and I can do it without the aid of a power suit!_

Angseth reached the edge of the ravine and bent her knees, building up all the strength she had in her legs to jump. Even though the pit extended far below her, Angseth didn't take her eyes off the flash of gold running through the trees. She pushed against the earth, her legs extending out before her in momentary weightlessness. The opposite bank came up below her and her arms pin-wheeled in mid-air.

Vera hit the opposite side, landing in a crouch and rolling with the impact. She rolled to a stand and from that position she sprang forward, after the armor, after what it contained, after her dreams, after Samus.

The rumors had flown to all corners of the galaxy, becoming legend and lore in their own right. Samus was no longer a person, but an embodiment of the warrior Goddess, Athena or Artemis, mistress of the hunt, an unattainable mythical ideal. Now in this dream Angseth was attempting to outrun a Goddess, however with no golden apples to distract her, she only had skill and speed left. Angseth held her head up and began to lift her legs higher, gaining more ground and speed. That flash of gold still dashed ahead of her, leaping over rocks and fallen trees with ease, scaling walls and vines as if they were mere pebbles in her path. Angseth slowly closed the gap. Rocks, trees, ruins, animals be damned, there was only one quarry in her mind. She knew that she couldn't out-think the mistress of the hunt; she would simply need to out-perform. Twenty feet away, now ten, now five, soon Angseth pulled even with the gold armor, fighting for every inch of ground gained. There was nothing in her vision now but wetlands. Still running, she could hear Aran's footsteps beside her, the sound of armored feet hitting the soft dirt of the trail. Curiosity began to set in, had she actually outrun Diana? Was that even possible? The temptation was too much, Angseth could only see so much out of the corner of her eye, but if she turned her head fully she would loose the lead. Was she even supposed to compete with Aran? Could anything be seen of the woman's eyes? Would they be fixed on her, or the trail ahead?

Angseth couldn't resist, she turned and fixed her gaze on Samus, losing speed and breath, but soon a chill ran down her spine, her legs no longer moved for the sake of friendly competition, but out of fear. There was the armor, yes, every last segment and plate in place on the Varia suit. But there was something else now, something different. The armor was tinted, yet transparent. Like a gold glass bottle. Angseth could see Aran's eyes quite clearly and could also make out the curve of Samus skull, and the outline of her jawbone through the transparent skin of the armor. The sun was low in the sky, and for a moment Samus stepped between Angseth and the sun. Cold shock came over Vera as the light traveled through the armor, leaving the full skeletal frame of Aran in silhouette.

The more Angseth stared, the more she could make-out. The armor had become transparent, glass-like, tinted red, gold, or green. Aran was visible through the armor, but not her flesh, only her skeleton, and in some areas, cartilage and internal organs. Vera tore her gaze away and began running at full speed again. Not to outrun the Goddess this time, but to escape this demon that was now hopefully far behind her.

Angseth felt a hand fall on her shoulder, and opened her mouth to scream. No sound came, only a pathetic whisper. Her energy left her in a rush, and suddenly her legs felt like water, cramped and achy. Another hand fell on her other shoulder, pulling her to a stop. Angseth felt her shoulders pulled and her body twisted so she was forced to look back at the monster.

Vera watched as Aran's hands pulled energy from her, life-force left her body in wisps of blue smoke, and seemed to energize Samus. The gesture was exaggerated, as if Aran was demonstrating exactly how Vera would meet her demise. Samus' armor began to grow brighter in color, and become more opaque as Angseth herself began to wither. Mervera Angseth was going to die like…like….

_ Like that Pirate in the hallway._

Angseth's gaze snapped up and her eyes locked onto the pale blue orbs looking at her from behind the tinted green visor on Samus' helmet.

"I get it."

* * *

Nevada had been sitting in the drop ship with Angseth in his arms when her body suddenly jerked. The drop ship was about to land back aboard the Mabus, everyone had been withdrawn safely, no casualties and he had been contemplating getting a long shower when her body jumped. Briar tried to calm her, holding her arms in place until she grew still. She was probably frightened. Her power suit had been drained of all energy, as had her cybernetic leg. He had patched into his own suits power supply to keep her vitals up and running. She began to fidget again as they landed and the door of the drop ship opened. When the sounds of men moving out of the craft became louder, her body bucked again and she fell from his arms to the floor of the drop ship.

It was dark in here. Her HUD was still blank leaving her blind for the moment. Angseth felt her body fall and hit the floor then she quickly pulled herself up on hands and knees and ripped the helmet from her shoulders. Briar knelt beside her as she dry coughed and gained her breath back. She began to speak, her voice barely a whisper. "We need . . . to help her."

Briar looked around to ensure that all the men had vacated. "We can't go back in there Vera. The entire sector was locked up tight on our way out in order to contain the engine room melt-down."

Angseth shook her head and focused on the treads on the floor to gain her vision back. Her helmet blipped at her side.

_ "Captain, we're tracking another pirate frigate pulling out of the debris of the station. A hunter class ship registered to Samus Aran has taken off in pursuit."_

Angseth grabbed her helmet and pulled it over, staring dumbly at her com. Briar stood, gaining his feet. Angseth analyzed her memories of the battle with Ridley, just before she had blacked out. Aran had raised her arm cannon; something seemed wrong then, something.

"I could see her bones…I could see her bones through her Varia suit," Angseth whispered. She leaned on Briar and stood, and then noticed that her leg was without power. "I need to…she needs my help Briar."

"Vera please," he supported her as she regained her balance.

Angseth pulled away after a moment and began limping out of the ship and toward the main fighter bay. "Launch a squad of fighters to pursue the frigate. I'll lead," She called into the comm. and paused to catch her breath again_. The dream, that knowing look in Aran's eyes._ "Briar!" She called.

"Captain?"

"I leave you in charge of the Mabus. If I don't return in 24 hours, continue the mission to SR3-88."

"No Mervera," he stepped out of the ship and walked over to her. "I have half a mind to swing you over my shoulder and carry you to the Med Bay."

Angseth paused and leaned against a stack of crates for support. "I need to go Briar."

"Need to go see Dr. Bearn? I agree," Briar looked her over. Her face was pale, not the comfortable sienna he had become accustomed to.

Angseth felt his hand on her shoulder. "No Nevada," she breathed. "There is so much at stake right now. So much doesn't add up. Why is there a completely abandoned station out there and I had received no word of an evacuation?" she felt his hand take her chin and turn her head so she could face him. She looked up into his slit green eyes, her vision steadily focusing on the finer details of his fur.

Her dark brown eyes momentarily stunned Briar. He had planned to see if her eyes were focused and alert, however they were always so hard to face. Those eyes had always been filled with such fierce determination, intelligence and stubbornness, however despite all those traits, they were never hard. Angseth would never turn her back completely on someone else. That was her weakness. He let go of her chin as focus seemed to come back to them. Her head lowered and for a moment he could see just a flicker of purple in her eyes, like a rare gem with an odd luster.

"You don't have to take on every dragon that comes your way Vera. We have our mission and Aran has hers. Stay," he hoped it didn't sound as if he was begging. She hated it when he begged.

"There is more at stake here than just this mission," she rubbed her eyes and ran her fingers through her hair. Briar should just have stayed quiet. Damn she hated it when he begged. "I have a gut feeling about it. I feel that our very way of life might be threatened if I don't go. Please assume command Briar, I only need to ask her a few questions."

Briar's hand slid slowly from her shoulder. His gaze hardened as he spoke. "As you wish…Captain."

"I will return Nevada."

"I know you will. You will only die when you're good and ready to," he stepped in closer. "One of these days, I will be the one to protect you for a change."

Angseth stood on tiptoe and gave him a light kiss on his furry cheek. Second thoughts were trying to work their way into her mind, but a decision already had been made. She would chase after Samus, once again seeing nothing but the ass-end of all her carnage and destruction. Briar stepped away from her and called out across the landing bay.

"Ready a squadron of fighters to pursue the Pirate Frigate. Captain Angseth will lead the charge."

The fighter squadron commander saluted then began running for the separate fighter bays. Briar turned and watched his fiance limp away toward the hall. A smile moved over his lips despite the situation. No other woman in the known universe could hold his attention for half as long as she. Angseth would do as she pleased, she always had. As the old saying went, one could only lead, follow, or get out of her way.

Angseth could feel Briars gaze at her back as she rounded the corner and headed for a refueling locker. He was smiling. She knew he was smiling without looking at him. Just as she often had that defiant righteous smirk that would creep over her face at the most inappropriate times, Briar would smile that all-knowing all-seeing kitty grin. She stopped outside a support locker and pulled two more power cells from within. The cybernetic leg was a hindrance more than anything at the moment, but she could tolerate until she arrived at her fighter and had a chance to recharge it. However the power armor needed a bit more juice to be effective. Damn thing was heavy and difficult to move in when the power drained. Angseth pulled the three dead power cells from her armor and stared at them for a moment.

_ She threw me._ Angseth ran her finger over the serial numbers etched into the plasteel face of the cell. _Samus grabbed me, and threw me four stories up and through the door._ She felt a tickle on her lips, a giggle slipped from her throat, and Angseth raised a hand to stifle it. Her mouth broadened into a smile, and she leaned against the locker, feeling the rubber-like fingertips of the power armor bite into her cheeks as she tried to stop the flow of giggles. _Aran drained my batteries dry, and then threw me back from whence I came._

Angseth closed her eyes and took deep breaths until the giggle fit passed.

_ Who had more fun in this job Aran? You or me?_

* * *

A century ago the Thor Fleet Class had been considered to be the pinnacle of warfare technology. Each of the Hammer-pattern vessels were equipped with enough space to provide for five full companies or one mid-sized regiment of marine troops and equipment, advanced medical bays, SPS navigation, and two fighter bays located on either side of the craft. Each bay held its own complement of fighters. Over time the Hammer-pattern of the Thor Fleet Class vessels had been phased out due to improvements in technology, or just simple negligence. The Mabus was one of fifty Hammer-pattern Thor Fleet Class vessels to still play an active role in Fleet exercises and missions. Through careful work the Mabus had been kept in working order, and upgraded at every opportunity.

The Mabus had been equipped with twin bays, each held three squadrons of fighter ships. Each squad boasted ten ships at their disposal. The bays were tucked into either side of the Mabus, with sliding bay doors that could be closed when the fighters were not in use, or while the ship was traveling in warp. The fighters were held inside the Mabus by a series of docking clamps that held the smaller ships in like jigsaw pieces to conserve space. The only exception had been Angseth's own personal fighter, which was housed in an area apart from the other fighters.

Like all her other equipment, this ship had the twin captain bars painted on it as well. This made her an easy target to pick out in any confrontation. As always, protocol didn't need to make one lick of sense. Angseth's fighter was larger than the others, partly because it was an older model, partly because of all the enhancements she had paid to install. This was the craft that had taken her leg, and since the damn this had already tasted her blood, she wasn't about to let it go. There were many superstitions about warriors who had thrown away weapons that had harmed them, only to find themselves on the business end of it later. Angseth didn't place much stock in those stories, however she wasn't brave enough to test the theory either. The fighter still had all the standard equipment with the slight modifications. The engines were huge and warp-capable, and the expanded missile bays underneath gave it the appearance of a pregnant bat. The fighter wasn't so much built for speed as for defense.

Angseth pulled herself into the docking bay and climbed over the wing of her fighter. It rocked slightly with her movement as she knelt to activate the controls for the canopy of her cockpit. A seam spread by her feet, bisecting a few "warning" tags that had been placed near the intake valves for the engine. There was the sound of a hydraulic hiss, and the canopy opened, revealing her seat and steering bar inside. Angseth leaned in to activate the holoscreens and check the diagnostics. She slipped inside and straddled her seat. The seat wasn't like most fighters, where there was a chair surrounded by numerous screens, instead the seat reminded her of the one on a hover-bike. She swung her legs over either side, and she would grip the steering bar that had been covered in little diodes and gages. Her feet locked onto the pegs, clicking into place. An orange light came on near her right grip on the steering bar indicating that her cybernetic leg and suit were now charging. As the holoscreens came alive, they began to display the names and rank of those who would be joining her in red. Angseth settled into her seat and almost immediately her com lit up. She rolled her eyes as she answered the hail.

"Speak," she said flatly.

_ "Captain Angseth, is there really a need to pursue the pirate frigate? Aran has already taken up pursuit."_

Angseth took several deep breaths before she opened the com-line again. "Captain Thomas," she began while strapping herself in. "Indeed Aran has taken up the chase, however I feel that it is both rude and cowardly to have not one, but three Confederation ships present and not one of them offer to help in the least. Aran is also the only one who knows what truly happened on the Seattle. I intend to question her when I get the chance. Continue on your present course to SR3-88. I will join you shortly," to her right the name of the pilots began to turn blue as each one signed in and received their orders.

_ "Captain,"_

"Not another word out of you Thomas. I have my orders just as you have yours. My orders state that no research mission shall take priority over the safety of Confederation citizens, and I want to know what has happened to all the citizens onboard the Seattle. Angseth out," she closed the com-line, and watched the gages as her engines began to warm. When the last name moved from red to blue, she opened the com and announced to her squad. "This is Captain Angseth speaking. Your orders are as follows: Pursue the Pirate Frigate and shoot to kill. Provide cover fire for the bounty hunter Samus Aran. Do not pursue the frigate into warp. Any questions?"

Affirmative beeps and howls came through the com-line. Angseth nodded then slipped her fingers into the grips on her steering bar. "Alright, launch!"

Her ship jarred as the locking clamps released. The holoscreens flickered to life around her providing an unobstructed 360-degree view of her surroundings. Angseth watched as the Mabus faded from view and the holoscreens highlighted the fighters on the squad accompanying her. The pirate frigate was still in sight, highlighted in red, and the small gold fleck of Aran's bounty class ship still remained in sight. Once Angseth's fighter was cleared from the Mabus, she gunned the engines, and began cruising toward the frigate. Her squad followed, falling into formation around her. As expected, the frigate began to open fire amidst its own fighter craft.

Angseth targeted several of the pirate fighter craft then shouted over the com line "Fire at will!" her ship accelerated into the fray, locking several missiles onto pirate craft. Angseth embraced that old feeling of excitement as it overcame her. It had been far too long since she had been involved in a firefight of this magnitude, and come hell or high water she wasn't going to let that frigate get away with out one huge repair bill. Her hands rested on the grips, her fingers squeezing the triggers back letting loose with burst after burst of plasma shells designed to melt away the hull of a ship on contact. She smiled as one of the pirate fighter craft began to smoke and then shattered into pieces with only the minimal amount of familiar red and orange flames. Once the oxygen from the tanks had been used, there was no way for fire to continue burning.

"I've still got it," Angseth breathed into the com. She fell into formation with her squad and began to weave her way through the line of fire creeping closer to Aran's craft.

_ "Captain, it doesn't seem as if the pirates are giving it their all today, think they may be tired from the battle on the station?"_

"Could be, but keep pushing them, I want to see that frigate in pieces!" she called over the com, and winced as a ship at her side began to smoke. The fighters had orders to head back to the Mabus in the event that they became damaged; she prayed that one could make it.

_ "Captain?" _Briar this time.

"Yes?"

_ "The frigate is emitting preliminary radiation, looks like it's heading for warp."_

"This close? Everyone pull back!" Angseth pushed her ship faster as her own squad began to drop off to head back to the Mabus. Angseth locked that little fleck of gold into her sights and charged ahead with everything she had. She opened up the com and hailed Samus Aran's ship. "Bounty Hunter Samus Aran! This is Captain Angseth of the Confederation Battle Cruiser Mabus, please avert your course and report to the Mabus for questioning."

Angseth watched on the radar as her own fleet pulled away. Now that she looked, there wasn't much pirate activity either. The frigate was emitting large amounts of radiation. Wherever it was heading, it was planning on getting there fast.

Aran didn't answer her hail, nor showed any sign of slowing down.

Angseth opened the com once more. "Bounty Hunter Samus Aran! This is Captain Angseth of the Battle Cruiser Mabus! Avert your course and report to the Mabus immediately!"

_ "Captain, please correct your heading, you're aiming right for the epicenter of the wake!"_

"Shit," Angseth glanced at her scanners again, her ship was right in the wake of the frigate, and she was about to pursue Samus straight to her doom. The frigate for the time seemed to ignore that they were even there, only firing the occasional shot in an attempt to ward them off.

_ Don't panic. Don't panic. Try to see things a little more clearly. Why is Aran still this close? Why is she still pursuing them even through she doesn't even have her shields up?_

The shockwaves that would emit from a ship that size passing into warp could easily tear apart small vessels like this one, and Aran's for that matter. Either Aran had a ship strong enough to survive getting caught in a wake of that magnitude, or she knew something that Angseth didn't. Come to think of it, Samus hadn't done much fighting.

"What are you up to?" Angseth whispered under her breath.

Aran began heading closer to the frigate. Shields down, and close, so dangerously close. Angseth watched in silence as the small gold fleck suddenly blipped off the radar.

"Where did she go?" Angseth called out. She enhanced the range on her scanners and began searching. Nothing short of a contained space fold could make a ship disappear that quickly, and…

There. No Aran hadn't folded.

"She tucked into the Aura," Angseth breathed. _By dropping her shields she was able to minimize her own ships Aura and slip inside the Aura of the pirate frigate._

Angseth narrowed her eyes at the small gold fleck, a bright day-glow paint chip in the eternal night. There was a place on the frigate, simple enough. Angseth opened the com line. "Lieutenant Briar."

_ "Captain?"_

"I'm going to be a little late. Please carry on without me."

_ "Ang…" _Silence, then. _ "Aye, Captain."_

Angseth studied the frigate, and then looked down at her own gauges readings. This would be a challenge. Excitement began to creep into her veins, starting as a slow trickle until it became an overwhelming flood. Decent challenges for fighter pilots came along rarely. Challenges for this forty-three year old Captain hadn't presented itself in quite some time. Consequences be damned. This was her last mission, and it wouldn't be the first time she had taken a tangent. Come to think of it, the last few tangents she had taken had given her a few medals.

The excitement bubbled down her arms, through her legs and into the fighter until it felt like a part of her body. She began flipping switches and shutting down holoscreens.

_ "Captain," _Briars voice came over the com. _"Why are you dropping your shields?"_

"I know what I'm doing Nevada. Just stay your course," Angseth leaned forward, gripping the steering bar tightly as one of the alarms went off in her cockpit, vainly telling her of the inevitable danger just outside. She stood up on the foot pegs and opened the thrusters fully. The fighter shot forward, alarms went off around her, warning of the close proximity to the pirate frigate and the vast amounts of radiation it was exuding. Angseth held fast as she grew closer. Her ship rocked with resistance from the frigate and the odd magnetic field it repelled.

_ I'm still not getting close enough; my Aura is still too strong. I need to find a way to drop my Aura completely so I can get closer!_

Angseth scanned the control panel before her, was there anything else she could turn off? Primary shields were down, but she also had secondary and tertiary shields, targeting systems, navigation, SPS, there were a lot of things running at the moment. So may things that required a stable Aura to operate in. Vera reached forward and began to systematically shut down all shield layers, and targeting systems. The turbulence had let up a little, but there was still too much resistance.

"I guess I need to go blind then," She snapped her helmet into place, and shut down her navigation systems, sub-programs, and SPS. The only things running at the moment were life-support systems and visual feed of the outside world. Angseth watched her holo-projectors, keeping herself on course until she pulled even with Aran's ship. The inside of her fighter was getting hotter, her instruments beginning to fade away, even the holoscreens began to flicker. For a moment she wondered if she somehow had managed to turn her fighter into a large microwave oven. She heard a small beep in her HUD indicating that the power suit and her cybernetic leg were no longer receiving power from the fighter. Aran had slipped in so easily. Why had Vera thought that she could do the same in what seemed to be a much more primitive craft? The suits now charged back-up batteries kicked in, allowing Angseth to patch visual feed through to her HUD. By doing that she was able to minimize her Aura that much more.

_ I can do anything you can. I can do anything you can. _

Angseth sharply turned the steering bar, executing a barrel roll and positioning her ship upside down. The resistance suddenly stopped, and Angseth slammed the toggle to activate her docking magnets. The fighter shook as the landing clamps locked onto the underbelly of the frigate, slightly to the right and in front of Aran's own fighter. Inertia took over as the frigate jumped into warp, only then did Angseth let of the steering bar and let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding.

Angseth leaned forward and rested her head on the steering bar, gauge plates clicked against the glass of her helmet. She worked to stifle giggles, then smiled and looked over at her companion. The giggles subsided. Vera hated the giggle fits. They always came at the most inappropriate moments, and often caused her to be reprimanded. If her memory served her right, she might even have been giggling on Aether as those damn splinters chewed their way through her armor.

_ Stop it, now you're just getting creepy. You giggle for the same reason those boys at the wedding giggled. Because you made it, and damn ain't living fun? _

Angseth sat up, then turned and looked over at Aran's craft. It was just as she remembered, the ship was as androgynous as it's pilot. It was impossible to tell what was happening behind those green-tinted windows. The thought that her own vessel was currently locked onto a pirate frigate next to that of Bounty Hunter Aran's made the situation all the more surreal.

_ You really are going crazy aren't you Vera? _Angseth leaned on her steering bar. _Is this what would one would call a mid-life crisis? How old are you now Aran? It's been twenty years since Aether, believe me, I've counted them. I'm in my early forties, and you...you've always been timeless, ageless. I've never seen your face but I have kept track of your exploits...and I must admit that I have been jealous. All those years I've spent in the Federation, and now the Confederation, I've worked and clawed my way through the ranks just so I could be more like you._

Angseth leaned back in her seat, then removed her helmet and rubbed at her eyes. She had just foolishly and blindly followed Aran into warp on the underbelly of a pirate frigate with no thought or idea as to how or when she would return, or even where they were heading. Nevada would be displeased if she were to die without getting one last report or broadcast out to him.

_ Well then, I just won't die. I can't afford to. Not before I see Nevada again. Not before I feel his furry strong arms around my body again._

Angseth sighed. She always grew sentimental when she knew that she had done something wrong. The outcome of this little jaunt could either be another medal or a court marshal. It wasn't the first time she had abandoned her post on a hunch. However here she was, and now all Angseth could do was pray that this hunch was correct and would pay off. She had questions that Aran had the answers to. That much Vera was sure of. Warp would make it difficult to communicate with anyone else. She didn't have a strong enough transmitter on the fighter to project a signal very far.

How long would this frigate remain in warp anyway? Where would they end up? If Angseth survived the inevitable fire-fight, would she have enough fuel to at least make it to another station?

_ This seat is starting to get a little uncomfortable now..._

Angseth shifted position again and looked over at Aran's ship. Aran probably had a bunk inside the craft along with all the comforts of home. An image came to Angseth's mind of Samus in an easy chair with a bowl of popcorn watching some sappy movie on a holo-video screen, while Angseth sat inside her own fighter on an uncomfortable seat with her only view being the underside of a rusted pirate frigate.

When it seemed as if the frigate was in for the long haul, Angseth extracted herself from her seat, and began a limited free-float inside her cockpit. It gave her a chance to stretch her legs and check the condition of her craft. She seemed to have made it here with minimal damage. The missile bay still carried a decent complement of warheads; hopefully they would be enough to-

Her navigation screen was flashing something.

Angseth turned around and pulled herself back down to her seat. Text scrolled across the navigation screen. It was only one sentence long but it was enough to cause Angseth's heart to jump into her throat.

_ "Bounty Hunter Samus Aran to Confederate Fleet Battleship Captain Angseth."_

Angseth stared at the text for a full minute before finally reaching out for her keyboard. "Message received," her finger hovered over the "enter" key for a moment. This was the first thing that Aran' had ever said _to_ her. The cockpit seemed to echo with the click sound as Angseth's power suit clad finger depressed that one single key. The response was instantaneous, almost as if it had been pre-programmed.

_ "This pirate frigate has set a course for FQ3-59. ETA is 4h10m"_

Angseth read this silently, and then pulled up a star chart to learn more about the location. "Not too far out in the boonies...but that's almost in the heart of Mirson's sector, why would the pirates go there?" she pulled the keyboard over again. "Angseth to Aran, did you find any information aboard the Seattle?"

She pressed the "send" key, and the message bounced back.

"Damn, either the radiation from the craft is screwing with my com, or Aran closed hers down," Angseth smirked. "Creative. But I'll need to show you how creative I can get."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

"Over here! I found her!"

"Alive?"

"I'm getting life signs, bring the plasma torches!"

"There is no way someone could have survived that...and if they have, they won't live long."

Angseth's body ached. Her ears rang out as the voices came closer. She could feel intense pressure all around her body. External forces pushed on her armor, pinning her place. If she moved too much, the armor would dig into her skin even more. She could see her shoulder plate, it had an odd ripple effect to it now, as if it had been no more than a metal ribbon that someone had carelessly dropped. Breathing was difficult. There was something pushing against her diaphragm, preventing her from taking in air. The voices grew louder, chattering away in five different dialects. The lack of air and the intense pressure against her body were nothing compared to the searing heat that consumed her leg.

_ What happened? Where am I?_

The metal around her began to shake. The pressure increased while rubbing and pinching her body. Almost without her approval, a raspy pained scream left her throat. The vibrations stopped, the voices could be heard whispering, and another voice called out.

"Airman Angseth? Are you alive?"

The pain was forgotten for a brief moment as she contemplated the question. _Am I alive? Am I ALIVE? Why else would I have started screaming if I wasn't?_

Angseth let loose with a string of curses aimed at the parentage of those shaking her prison. In one breath she screamed at the redundancy of that question and the lack of intelligence of the person who spoke it. Laughter from her rescuers followed her outburst, and Angseth was left regretting using what little air she had left to damn her saviors. Another voice came through the laughter, or perhaps it was the same voice, it was hard to tell surrounded by all this twisted metal. The voice was calm, level, reassuring.

"Airman Angseth, I am Medical Officer Nevada Briar, Class V. Your squadron leader has stated that you have an even head on your shoulders, and I find it necessary to explain your current situation, as we may need your help."

Angseth began to wonder if he was reading the lines from a prompter on a data pad.

"Please answer all following questions with yes or no. Airman Angseth, do you wish for me to proceed?"

She could picture him in her minds eye. More than likely some private standing there reading off lines from "Illness and Injuries 101." Angseth fought for a breath, and called out "Yes! I can hear you!" She then heard the sound of feet walking on metal.

"Airman Angseth, you have answered yes. Are you in any pain?"

"YES!"

"Can you move?"

"No!" Angseth looked to her right as the metal began to vibrate again.

"Have you ingested any alcoholic beverages in the past 24 hours?"

"NO!" She was getting angrier by the minute. It would not bode well for her to be angry. She was trapped, she didn't know how she had gotten there, but she needed help from the outside. Anger would be of no use against these crushing walls.

"Airman Angseth, your fighter was caught in the wake of a ship warping out. Your ship then proceeded to collide with three other craft from your wing. This compromised the structural integrity of your craft. In order to extract you, we must first cut away the hull of your craft. This may cause you some discomfort. We will try to have you out as quickly as we can. Are you able to feel your limbs?"

"Yes, except for my right leg."

"Can you see your limbs?"

"No."

"Will you be able to withstand minor vibrations while we free you?"

Angseth took in another lungful of stale air. "Yes!"

The vibrations began anew. She could hear the plasma torches as they shaved away pieces of her fighter. Angseth grit her teeth and tried not to howl in pain as the shaking began to irritate her wounds. Everything was dark in here, even her HUD display revealed nothing. Now that consciousness trickled back into her mind, she began to remember what had occurred.

Angseth had been on a routine training exercise with her squadron. She had been positioned as a far wingman, completing an attack formation. She remembered that her external sensors had lit up, indicating close proximity to another vessel. There shouldn't have been any other vessels, not to mention larger ones this close to their formation. Her memory had been accurate until the point where she had looked up for visual confirmation, and saw the hazy ass-end of a troop transport as it pulled away. She remembered a cackle coming over the com before she lost control of her fighter.

The metal before her groaned and a plate covered in the mechanism for her holo-display was pulled away. Angseth could now see light that had filtered through her HUD. Beyond looked like a bay, what kind she couldn't be certain until she had a chance to read the insignia on the walls. Emergency crews were cutting and carrying off pieces of her ship. A pair of hands reached in and pulled her helmet free. Angseth gasped and drew in fresh cool air, then felt the hands place an oxygen mask on her face. More pieces of her prison were then pulled away.

"Airman Angseth?"

"Pilot," She corrected. "Lieutenant Angseth." Vera tilted her eyes up toward a distinctive feline face, with a few scale-like plates over his eyes and on his chin. His features were young even though his voice held maturity. Was this the guy who had been talking the entire time? He didn't even have a data-prompter anywhere near him.

"Please forgive me; I've always had trouble remembering proper rank titles." He spoke softly, carefully positioning the oxygen mask so as not to cause her anymore discomfort. That one small act caused Angseth to pause and study him.

Angseth spoke through the oxygen mask. "Medical Officer Nevada Briar I assume?"

The feline nodded as he pulled away more plating.

Angseth fidgeted, her vision was beginning to blur again. Her leg afire, and her body suddenly telling her that sleep was a good thing. One last question escaped her lips as she slipped away again. "What kind of name is Nevada?"

* * *

A beep sounded within the cockpit. Vera opened her eyes and looked around.

_ Did I fall asleep?  
_

She stretched, and felt her body rest on the ceiling above her seat. Holo-screens bounced around as if they had a mind of their own.

_ I guess I did fall asleep._

Angseth slipped back into her seat and locked her feet onto the pegs. She had been just full of memories lately. Running into old "friends" seemed to have that effect on her. Despite the fact that she had lost her leg in that horrible accident, she hadn't been afraid to step back into the cockpit of an aircraft. She couldn't afford to be scared.

And if it weren't for the loss of her leg, she never would have met Nevada.

Another beep drew her attention to the view screens and radar. The pirate frigate was coming out of its jump, and once it did she would need to vacate, fast. The one and only text message that Aran had sent still graced her navigation screen. Angseth remembered what she had been thinking about before falling asleep. The message had read "Four hours, and ten minutes." That was…so little time. The planet that they had set a course for was FQ3-59. That planet should have been well into Mirson's home territory, and four hours? Traveling that kind of distance in such a short amount of time could normally only be done with a jump-gate. It took the Mabus one month with the drives at maximum to make it that far. What kind of engines were the pirates using on these frigates? If their frigates could move this quickly, then could their battleships do the same? What other odd technology did the pirates have access too?

Angseth began booting up her base systems, wondering if she should bother performing a more in-depth systems check. The holo-screens returned to their normal stations. Vera patched her HUD into the fighters interface, and was rewarded with an awe-inspiring three hundred and sixty degree view of the space around her. As her old instructor had put it, it was the closest thing to dream flight the Confederation had come up with.

The Pirates were no doubt pissed about their hitchhikers and a firefight was to be expected the moment they dropped out of warp. Vera glanced back at Aran's ship. It hadn't changed through the trip, why should it have? The power cells on her own fighter were still at a stable level and the navigation screens displayed the speed of the frigate. Angseth didn't believe what her instruments were displaying anyway. There was too much conflicting evidence. The most important thing her fighter could tell her at the moment would be how much fuel she had left, and where the enemy craft were. However, it was still unmistakable that frigate was slowing. They were leaving whatever stream of time-space the pirates had jumped into, and Angseth was sure that there would be an intense battle to follow.

The frigate slowed and almost came to a full stop. Angseth's radar immediately lit up with several hundred little blips indicating incoming enemy craft, and several rotating turrets lowered from the belly of the ship, swinging around to evict the tag-alongs.

"Not giving us a chance are they?" Angseth planted her feet on the pegs and released the magnetic docking clamps. Her fighter began to drift away from the underside of the frigate, and not a moment too soon. The turrets began to fire, rotating to follow her ship as she pulled away. Vera's navigation systems and shields flared up as she gunned the engines and shot forward and hopefully away from the underbelly of the ship. She kept close to the hull, keeping inside their guard and knowing that the moment she hit open space it would be a free-for all and her life then could be measured in seconds.

Overhead, previously hidden bays opened and pirate fighters began to erupt into open space. Good, that was just the kind of cover she needed. Slipping into formation with the Gamma Fleet Pirates, she followed them toward open space. As far as Vera knew, they had no short-range weapons that would do her much damage and if the frigate was going to fire on her, then she might as well try to take as many of them with her as possible.

Angseth bit her bottom lip as Aran's ship shot past her, forgoing any kind of cover or even concern for incoming fire. Vera put the minor grudge behind her and left the pirates formation, then guided her fighter into position to cover Aran's flank, a place she had become quite familiar with during her time as a fighter pilot. She could see the blue-green orb of FQ3-59 in the distance. The frigate had pulled in close. Not quite in the planets orbit, but not far from. For a moment she pondered why the Pirates would travel to a world that could not sustain them. Did they intend to land, or was this just a stopping point on their route? So many questions bubbled up in her mind. Angseth sorted through them and made a mental note to find answers to the more important ones. She still hadn't forgotten about the _Seattle_, and she needed to live long enough to ask Aran about it.

More gun turrets emerged from the sides and top of the frigate. Far more than it seemed was necessary to attack two small fighter craft. Then again if Ridley was on the ship, he may not want to take any chances against Aran. Angseth used her multi-targeting system to lock-on to and eliminate as many Gamma Fleet fighters as opportunities presented themselves. There was no shortage of targets. The pirate fighters seemed to almost be made of paper, even normal plasma charges were taking care of entire fighters, missiles weren't really necessary. Aran however was using some of the most powerful missiles and cannon charges that Angseth had seen anyone use on such flimsy craft.

"Over-kill much?" Angseth breathed. She had been trained to wound ships, not destroy them entirely. With this many fighters, even her expanded missile bay didn't have enough warheads to last long. How much could that paint-chip of Aran's carry? Angseth pictured a cockpit with Aran seated in a command chair surrounded by crates and piles of missiles and warheads. Why was she wasting so much valuable firepower on these cheap fighters?

_ Pay attention, you know Aran doesn't do many things without good reason._

Angseth checked her scanners; the two of them combined weren't having any effect on their forces. She looked up to receive visual confirmation on a hit. The scanner said that she had a confirmed hit on pirate fighter so why didn't the thing blow up or spin out as the others had done? This whole mess was just one big crap shoot. Vera opened the com line. "Captain Angseth to Bounty Hunter Aran, what is our primary objective?"

No reply. Angseth didn't really expect one either. More of the fighters were swarming toward them. How many could that frigate carry? She remembered reading the schematics on captured Gamma Fleet craft and had marveled at how they gutted the entire craft on some occasions to accommodate their purposes. Could this one have contained a boarding crew and full complement of fighters as well? The physics of it seemed off, but hey, they made a month-long trip in four hours, so why couldn't the frigate contain upwards of one thousand fighters?

Aran fired upon another cluster of fighters. Angseth studied her movements, and then fired upon the engines of a fighter before her. It suddenly became very clear why Aran was using such heavy firepower against them, and how so many of them could fit in one vessel. Angseth watched slack-jawed as the fighter before her appeared to break apart to allow her plasma charge to pass. The pieces then pulled together and once more became whole.

"Variable Form fighters? Where the hell did they pick up technology like that?" Now it was no wonder that Aran was using such heavy charges power. All of the craft that Angseth herself had shot down had simply pulled themselves back together like a magnet touching paper clips. She remembered attending an arms convention where the latest in fighter technology on been on display. Variable form fighters were top on the list of featured designs. They consisted of a central capsule that contained all the life support features, surrounded by a jigsaw puzzle of pieces that operated inside a highly flexible Aura. From what she understood of the technology, each piece of the fighter bore a certain energy signature that told the central computer where each piece went. When the field was disrupted, it simply drew the fragments back. The only way to really damage a ship like this was to either take out the central pod, or use such heavy weaponry as to disrupt the energy flow into the separate components. Due to the high cost, the military declined to bid on them, preferring solid-state fighters that could be easily and cheaply repaired.

An alarm in her cockpit sounded and Angseth drew her attention back to the battle. Variable form fighters were not cheap, and extremely deadly. One fighter could easily become two or three smaller craft—and that would be before the Pirates mangled them to their purposes. In theory the central pod on a Variable Form fighter could construct a vehicle out of any junk laying around.

Vera began to wish that she had brought a few of her own fighters from the Mabus with her, the weight of the situation starting to creep into her mind and spread doubt. There was only herself and Aran against this newly discovered amorphous mass the frigate had spewed. Only two _fighters._ One a ten-year-old Federation fighter, the other a…something…against a Gamma Fleet frigate with a full complement of its own forces and very heavily armed port cannons. Below was a planet, and Angseth was beginning to feel that she would become very familiar with the terrain of she didn't start paying more attention. What could two fighters do even make a dent in this behemoth?

As she picked off Gamma Fleet fighters using what few missiles she had left, Vera realized that she had come within range of the main gun turrets on the side of the frigate. One cluster swung around and began to open fire. Angseth cursed as a beam that could easily vaporize her craft narrowly missed her left wing. The beam continued on to destroy a few of Gamma Fleets own fighter craft in the effort to strike Aran and Angseth. Angseth was grateful the frigate didn't mind taking out its own fighters; she was running out of missiles.

Vera maneuvered her fighter to stay in Aran's shadow, giving cover fire as they swept in close to the frigate to destroy its main guns. She began to maneuver back to Aran's side when a pirate fighter seemed to come from out of nowhere and full-on rammed the side of her craft. Angseth braced herself as the shields rang and her fighter spun, slamming her into Aran's craft. Aran rolled her ship as Angseth hit, reducing the force of impact, but still receiving a bit of damage in the process.

Angseth gained control again, and looked down at her status screen. Her fighter's right missile ejection mechanism had been jammed. Her radar blipped again. She swung to her left to find a main cannon on the frigate locked onto her position, and it was about to fire. She gunned the engine again, hoping to dodge the beam, but it had locked on and tracked her movements.

A gold shape suddenly eclipsed the beam. Angseth yelled as Aran's ship took the full impact of the blast. The force of the beam caused Aran's ship to impact with Angseths once more, sending both of them spinning. Angseth fired her stabilization thrusters in an attempt to work out of the spin. Her fighters computer then calmly told her those were offline as well. Her shield sparked as the pirates fired upon them, closing in for the kill. Aran was using her thrusters to work out of the spin, however they were already close to the glowing blue ball of FQ3-59. Angseth braced herself, and began to guide her ship into planet fall.

_ The rock it is then._

She and Aran hit the atmosphere together, and then split apart. Angseth was almost thrown from her seat from the force of the impact. The friction in the atmosphere stopped their spin, and the pirates, surprisingly, only pursued them but so far. Yelling in frustration, Angseth grabbed her steering bar and began to call out instructions to the onboard computer. She was coming in too steep. Her fighter could easily perform space-to surface landings, but that was in ideal conditions. With Aran forgotten for the moment, Angseth gunned her directional thrusters and felt the main engines catch and steady the fighter. Temperature warnings flashed on her HUD as she made corrections to her decent.

The atmosphere grew thicker, and she finally gained control over the fighters trajectory. Angseth broke through several layers of clouds, then was greeted by tall jagged mountains, and jade green forests. The view itself came as a bit of a shock, she had been expecting terrain more akin to uninhabitable desert. Angseth pulled her steering bar gently and brought the nose of her fighter upward to prevent a nosedive. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Aran's craft spin off to the left before correcting its orientation. Angseth turned her attention back to her own heading. Right now the most she could do was find a safe place to land.

"Keep going, there is nothing you can't fly or land." Angseth mumbled to herself. She inched the nose up on her fighter, and picked a nice spread of forest. The hull of her ship could deflect most of the trees, those wouldn't be a problem, but if there were any rocks hidden in said trees, those could do some damage. Angseth deactivated her thrusters and let her ship glide in to a landing. After what seemed like ages she heard the first rattle and pock against the remaining shields and hull of her fighter before it committed to a full landing. The trees made an awful racket as they slammed against the hull of her ship. She held steady, then breathed a sigh of relief as the trees cleared and revealed an open plane…just before a drop off a sheer cliff face. Vera feathered the fighters brakes, hoping to slow her progress. Her ship groaned and listed to the right. She let up on the brakes and allowed the butt-end of her fighter to swing around and turn one hundred eighty degrees. The down-turned wing dragged the ground and kicked dirt and rocks over the hull of the ship, but still aided in bleeding off inertia. The fighter then stopped all movement

For a moment she heard nothing but the sound of beeps and blips in her cockpit of systems rebooting and calibrating. Angseth leaned on her hands and took in deep breaths.

_ I haven't had to perform a landing like that in a long time._

She kept her head in her hands as the beeping stopped and the fighters systems performed a diagnostics, and checked the composition of the atmosphere. Vera took in deep breaths to slow her pounding heart. Her fighter had come in fast. An ideal landing should have taken at least an hour but she managed to pull off in twenty nail-biting minutes. For some time after, she kept one eye on the radar for possible Gamma Fleet fighters coming to finish the job. After waiting what seemed like a lifetime, she determined that they had given up on the chase. Angseth counted her breaths. This fighter had seen her through many dogfights, but this was only the second space-to-surface landing she had to perform in it. Her heart rate eventually slowed and she allowed herself to relax her guard.

Vera waited for her ship to finish its examination of the atmosphere. Without knowledge of what the atmosphere here was composed of, she wasn't going anywhere. Vera looked up and pulled a holoscreen closer toward her, then began accessing her database to see if there would any information about this planet. After a moment she had more questions than answers.

FQ3-59 had not been on any map as a habitable planet. Perhaps the paperwork for colonization was moving slowly, or the whole planet had been tucked away in some senators back packet as a retirement home. After a moment she condensed the holoscreens around her, then looked out on the green surface of the planet. The landing had been very rough, but at least she had landed in a nice area. The readouts told her that her that the planet did have a stable atmosphere, and the soil composition would be compatible with human needs, even the bacteria levels were acceptable. If it came down to it, she could probably forage and find something edible here.

Vera popped the canopy, and opened the vents on her power suit. Fresh cool air rushed over her skin in welcome waves. The landing had agitated her cybernetic leg, but walking on it for a moment would loosen most of that up. Angseth welcomed the sunlight pouring into her cockpit. The holoscreens around her were like thin ghosts compared to the luminescence that poured in from above.

"All of mankind's little trinkets must abide by the laws of nature." Angseth whispered. She leaned forward and pulled a keyboard closer then punched in a line of coding that would enable a more in-depth damage report. It played back to her a list of ailments.

"Damage to landing gear, damage to right missile bay, communication malfunctions, navigation needs calibration, and of course, all contact with the Mabus has been severed." Angseth read off, then began running a few "quick-fix" redundancy programs. At this rate it would take three days to fix it all. "On a lighter note, my engines are still intact, as are the majority of my shields." She pushed the keyboard away, then slipped off the seat. Vera turned and opened a storage compartment behind her seat then pulled out her emergency kit. The kit consisted of a months worth of rations and ammo. With careful planning, her supplies would last longer. She also removed her second favorite gun from the compartment. Not quite a rifle, but a short-range arm-mounted cannon that still allowed for the flexibility of using her hands. Like her rifle it could fire pulse-beams using energy in her suit, or fire plasma cartridges that could either be charged or used as is. She also had another weapon tucked into a false bottom in the storage compartment. It was something that she had confiscated off one of her cadets trying to board the Mabus. However instead of giving it up to the proper authorities, she had been naughty and kept it for herself. She doubted that no self-respecting captain would give up a chance to own a weapon of that caliber.

The weapon had been made from banned technology. It was the only one of her collection that had a name she could remember. It was called a Sigel, a third class infantry weapon from the far moons of Cordova. These weapons packed quite a kick; they were made from dense ores and usually could only be wielded by those who lived on super-dense worlds. The weapons and the backlash they created were simply too much for any normal human to handle. Even though Angseth had twice the strength of a normal human, it still sent a shock down her arm when she fired it. Anyone else and it would take their arm clean off. The first time that she had test-fired the weapon, she had been unprepared and the kickback had broken her collar bone as well as dislocating her shoulder. The Sigel converted easily from a short-range cannon to a long-range sniper rifle with an adjustment of its beam intensity.

Angseth closed the storage compartment as she shouldered her pack. That little toy in her arsenal would stay in the ship for now. She had instructed the ship to emit a distress beacon as soon as all sign of pirate activity had ceased. If she carried the Sigel on her person she would have a hard time explaining the contraband to her rescuers.

Vera gathered the last of her survival gear and then climbed out of her ship. The first sound she recognized was the gentle crash of running water. The scent of chlorophyll came through the vents. Most importantly, there was a blue sky overhead. A blue sky indicated a healthy ozone layer, one unaffected by the burdens of modern technology. Angseth swung her feet over the side of the cockpit, then stepped onto the wing, and eventually followed it to the ground. As expected, her leg stopped aching as soon as it set down on the soft earth. The ground was a combination of fertile soil, and the occasional rock. Everything was so alive, trees grew clinging to cliff-faces, many different varieties of plants and bushes grew around her, edging the meadow, and dotting the landscape. The only thing that seemed to break up such a serene sight was the two-mile long trench to the east that her fighter had created on the landing. The ground in that direction had been scorched and burnt. Trees stood broken and toppled along the path her ship had taken. The meadow her fighter had come to a rest in continued another fifty yards to the west before dropping off the edge of a nearly vertical cliff. Angseth walked over to edge and observed her surroundings.

The nearest thing she could equate the view to were images of what Ni'gara Falls must have looked like in the on Old Earth. Old sepia toned images rarely displayed well on holoscreens, but this is what it must have looked like. A huge amount of water fell gracefully over the edge of a cliff, pounding into the basin below. Perhaps this was a collapsed caldera, but then again Angseth was no geologist.

"This must be someone's retirement home. A place like this wouldn't go long unsettled in normal circulation." Vera mused. She adjusted the cannon on her arm, and checked the computer mounted on the inside of her right wrist for the data read-out of the last location of Aran's craft. It displayed a rough map of the planet, and a small beacon to the south of her present location. The blip was only Aran's possible location, but it was all Angseth had to go on at the moment.

She began walking south, along the rim of the waterfall.

Vera scanned everything she could find, all the plant-life and the animals in her path. Most of them paused and gave her curious glances. Their response was enough to convince her that humans had rarely if ever set foot on this planet. The animals did not fear her, and in some cases they even sniffed at her feet. Vera made sure to keep the ones that she could locate at arms reach. As she crept through the forests, her mind traveled back to the only other time she had pursued Aran.

Aether had been and still was a dangerous environment. Her marine troop had pursued a pirate frigate to the Outer Reaches, and then on to Aether. After the Ing-possessed splinters had killed off her fellow marines, the pirates still remained. She had been afraid then, so scared that she would end up like her teammates.

Help seemed to come in the form of a bounty hunter sent by the Federation. The bounty hunter had helped her get her bearings back. Then the bounty hunter named Aran had run, left her with enough means to defend herself, and ran off. Angseth gave chase, knowing that if she at least followed in Aran's wake, her chances of running into something dangerous that still had some fight in it were slim to nothing.

Aran had proved to be a hard chase. The hunter already had all the tools she needed in her suit. Angseth had to improvise everything to follow behind her. She had cobbled together what her environment could provide. When her standard-issue jump-boots proved to be inadequate at best, Angseth had taken down one of the pirates present that had been equipped with a jetpack. That one acquisition had been enough to help her keep up with Aran even after the woman found an upgrade that turned her into a ball of jumping spinning fire that once she returned to normal society her fellow marines jokingly called the "spin attack." The only places that Angseth couldn't pursue Aran were into the portals of what came to be called "Dark Aether."

Angseth personally had no desire to travel through Dark Aether in the first place. Only bad things came from those portals. If the baddies were coming from there, then it was preferable that a one-man army like Aran to go in there and do battle with the forces of evil and leave Vera out of it.

_ Damn I was so stupid back then. I suppose one could argue that I'm stupid even now. I've abandoned my post and chased down a bounty hunter on the hope that she has some kind of information on what happened on the Seattle.  
_

Angseth stopped walking when a deep trench came into view. Perhaps her tracking had been right on. The trench was narrow, almost mistaken for the natural lay of the land, and not very long either. However Angseth had been able to land her own craft upright, Aran was not so lucky.

The gold-colored ship lay on its side, leaning against a wall of rock. A bit of vapor escaped from where Angseth supposed the engines were located. The make and model of the vessel were unknown to her. The ship for the most seemed to be still intact. Angseth walked carefully forward looking for an opening or something of that nature. Had Aran even left her craft?

Pain and weight in the shape of a foot hit Angseth in her lower back, knocking her down to the ground. Her leg locked up as she fell. She didn't need to look to see who her attacker was, that much was obvious, what Angseth didn't expect however was the big green device known as a power cannon resting against the back of her head. Vera slowly turned her head to face her attacker. This was the very same cannon, yes, but that thing down at the other end of it wasn't a plasma generator.

Angseth didn't so much as breathe, but somehow managed to take her gaze away from the power cannon and look Aran in the eye.

_ By the Goddess,_

Aran's helmet seemed to be transparent, as if made from colored glass. With the sun at the right angle, Angseth could make out the curve of Aran's skull through the armor. Was it even armor anymore?

"So my dream was right. I knew there had been something off about you when I saw you on the station." Angseth remained still. She carefully and slowly pulled her hand away from her own power cannon, leaving it to the side to show that she had no ill intentions.

Aran lowered her arm cannon, but still stood defensively as Angseth pulled herself to her feet. The ship captain couldn't help but question. "What happened to you?" Angseth studied Aran's features. Yes, transparent was the only word for it. Aran's Varia suit had become transparent, clear and hard like glass, showing her bones and organs along with the harder parts of cartilage. No wonder no one had heard from her in years.

Aran took a step back, the power cannon still fixed on Angseth. Vera hoped that the awkward moment would pass. The only time that she had ever been this close to Aran had been when she was chasing her down on Aether. Actually having her full attention was something unexpected. Angseth took in a breath and simply began to speak.

"There are a few questions I would like to ask, and then I'll pack up and go. First, I need to know exactly what happened on the Seattle. Since you were the only living force there I can call an ally with any kind of certainty. What happened and how did you end up there?" Angseth stood, feeling a little out of place. Aran was her hero. And even after all of the other experiences Vera had before now, just standing in the presence of someone she respected and yes worshiped to an extent made her knees weak and her heart race. She had to keep her cool, she had to get information, she had to stop acting like a teenage girl that had just run into her role model. Vera opened to her mouth to ask another question, but stopped when Aran raised her left hand in a "halt" gesture.

Angseth stayed rooted to the spot as Aran stepped closer to her. Her dream began to rise unbidden in the back of her mind again. Role model or not, if this thing touched her, she would turn into that withered mummy she had seen in the hall of the _Seattle_. Aran reached out with her left hand and took Angseth's hand, almost as if she would shake it. She felt that skeletal hand close around her own, glass shielding around the bones preventing contact. Instantly Angseth's HUD lit up with information. Lines of code raced by so quickly that she could barely register any of it. Almost as soon as the information had lit up her screen, it faded.

Aran took her hand from Angseth's then stepped back, lowering her arm cannon. Angseth stood for a moment staring stupidly at the interior of her HUD. Trying to ascertain what had just happened. Did Aran sift through her own files, or had she put something there? No, now she saw it, a new file was being recorded in her personal data cells. Angseth recovered after a moment. The file that Aran had just sent her was automatically forwarded to her ship and faded from her own records. A beep sounded, indicating that her ship had an update for her. Angseth looked at her arm to check the status of the repairs. It had only been a few hours and she didn't expect much progress to have been made .

The beep had been for a different purpose however. Her ship had picked up incoming air traffic.

"Confederation vessels?" Angseth looked up to Aran. "Did you summon them?"

Aran was quiet. She instead lifted her arm cannon again at Angseth. Angseth in turn scrutinized the com on her wrist. Her ships distress beacon hadn't been activated yet. "I didn't call for help either." She accessed her ships computer, and received information on the incoming vessels. "Battleship _Seacrest_, ranking officer Captain Fredrick. Battleship _Churi_, headed by Captain Leh." She looked up at the sky. "Two battleships, and goddess only knows how many drop ships and fighters with those. They got here fast. Almost as if they were expecting us to be here." She paused, feeling a sense of dread come over her. Things were not adding up. Why didn't the pirates pursue them to the planets surface? That action itself was enough to cause her concern. Secondly, how did the Confederate forces get here so soon? Both Captain Fredrick and Captain Leh were some of Mirson's best men.

The sky soon yielded some answers. From the west came sounds of spacecraft. The horizon became dotted with incoming ships, much like a flock of giant birds coming in to land.

"This doesn't add up." Angseth turned to Aran, only to find a vacant space where the bounty hunter had once been standing. _First Pirates and now this?_

Angseth searched for some sign of Aran. Not even her ship was visible any longer. Aran and cloaked it before she had run for cover. "Here we go again." Angseth sighed and checked her ammo supply. She began running through the trees looking for what she felt would be the best path to take. She wouldn't make herself known to the incoming force until she knew what their intentions could be.

For the moment, she would put all protocol aside, and disappear into the trees herself.

* * *

Private Jones was a common man. There was nothing very memorable about his looks or build. He wasn't even particularly clever or witty. His term with the marines was nothing more than an excuse to earn some much-needed cash for college. It sure beat flipping burgers on a station somewhere. He did all that he was told, and never any more than that. He was a good and dependable follower. When he jumped into the transport vessel this morning he didn't think much about the mission statement. This was a training exercise. A total of twenty transport ships had landed on this backwater planet, which put roughly two hundred fifty troops on the ground. It didn't take long for them to swarm ant-like around the "enemy" fighter, and deploy the proper materials needed to establish a base camp. They used a crane to move the fighter from its perch in the meadow, and secure in a lock-down pen in their base of operations. A security perimeter was then established. Wherever the marines went, lights and mild devastation followed. He, like most of the marines treated this as a field exercise, they often had training runs where they would fly out to god-knew where, set up a base camp, confiscate some enemy intelligence, then pat each other on the back and go home. There was nothing about this mission that told Private Jones otherwise. For all his dependability, Jones did have one major character flaw.

He could not refuse a dare.

The rest of his squad knew of this flaw and used it to their best advantage. For Jones had a second flaw that could be exploited. That being he was an idiot. Whenever they found themselves on leave, Jones would become goaded into trying the first new drink, or sent out to test a questionable catwalk. Jones was even the idiot that stuck his head out to see if the coast was clear. Jones was the guy the rest of the squad bet on to be the first to get shot, even though he had made it through more missions than most.

Tonight, team Sigma was out scouting the perimeter of a high cliff roughly half a mile outside the newly established base camp. The air was mostly quiet, save for the odd calls of some alien creature. They only had one objective, and that was to find any trace of a "Captain Angseth." The confiscated fighter supposedly belonged to her. Missions like this were like looking for a needle in a haystack. All they really had to do was go through the motions of searching, and they would be able to go home once it was over. Mostly everyone doubted they would locate her. In his mind, Jones found it more likely that some large creature had carried off the "target". In their boredom, the squad took turns stepping to the edge of the cliff they were patrolling to see if there was a way to climb down without the aid of repelling gear. The wind was high on the rim, making it difficult to stay near the edge for long.

Private Carson threw out the first challenge by announcing that he could do it with a grapple hook, not exactly repelling gear, but close. Soon other dares were flying around. The final challenge was issued for someone to climb down the cliff face to a ledge below where thin grasses blew in the wind. All eyes soon rested on Jones.

"Hey, Jones, do you think you could do it?"

"I dunno, the wind is pretty strong."

"Only on the rim, once you get over the edge its not so bad."

Jones walked back over to the side and peeked over again. "It is a long drop."

"Dare ya."

That having been said, it wasn't long before Private Jones stepped to the edge and peeked over for the last time. "Alright, but you guys owe me a drink when we get back to base." He turned, and knelt down to his hands and knees. Jones dropped a foot over the side of the canyon, much to the amusement of Sigma team. The whole squad soon gathered at the edge as Jones disappeared over the rim. His power suit gave him a slight edge as he slowly made his way down. He paused and looked upward to see the glowing faceplates of his comrades peeking over the edge.

"Get back up here, you're gonna get killed."

"Nah, I did this is basic, it's easy." He called back.

"Bullshit, you've made your point, get back up here."

"Let him go," Carson chuckled. "I've got a grapple beam in case he falls."

Jones couldn't help but feel a mild sense of superiority as he continued down the cliff-face. It wasn't often that he was able to say he had done something no one else had even tried. He fully intended to land on that little ledge, grab some plants and come back up again. He shifted his weight and moved his foot down to another hold. He settled his weight on the ledge and felt it slip a little.

A pebble rolled from under his foot, and began to roll down the cliff face. He listened for a moment as the pebble made the more familiar rattling sounds of rolling over stones before ending in a hollow almost plastic-like "POCK." He paused, then turned and looked down the side of the cliff.

* * *

As expected, Angseth had lost track of Aran soon after leaving the crash site of her ship. She had wandered through the woods, listening in on hacked com lines to determine the incoming force's location. Soon she lost even the slightest trail of Aran, yet came across the aftermath of some strange battle. There had been ice everywhere. Trees and rocks had been blasted and uprooted; yet everything had been coated in ice. Angseth knew that Aran had an ice creating weapon, perhaps she had been using it to protect herself from the marines without hurting them.

Angseth stayed and studied the scene for a few moments, recording as much footage and readings as she saw fit to review later. Vera then began to seek out a place to hide and still keep an eye on the events that played before her. She had found a nice narrow crevice up on a cliff-face over-looking the base camp operations. She was at a safe enough distance, close enough to use the zoom function on her visor, yet far enough to make an easy get-away if need be. She lay flat inside gaps of the rock, letting her body to conform to will of the cliff-face. As expected they had moved her fighter, and formed a security perimeter around it and the base camp. Getting off this planet just got a little tougher. However she still had faith in her training and her ability to out-smart these rookies.

Angseth had tapped into the com lines and used the information she gathered to judge the troops actions. So far they were making sweeps of the area to track herself and Aran down. The troops seemed to go about this with all the concern of a standard training exercise. Nothing indicated that either of them would be close to getting captured. At this point the troops didn't even know if Aran was still on the planet. If Angseth could help it, it would stay that way.

A pebble hit her helmet. If it had gone anywhere else, she would have thought nothing of it. However since it came from overhead, Angseth glanced skyward to get a better look. Sudden shock and pain overcame her as a standard-issue marine power suit boot came down on her face-plate. She resisted the urge to yell but couldn't help but squirm. Some stupid Private had just stepped on her face!

_ How the hell did they find me? I didn't even hear any voices on the com-lines!_

Jones froze as the "rock" he had placed his foot on began to struggle. He carefully shifted his weight again, then lifted his foot and looked down to see burning brown eyes glaring up at him from behind a faceplate. The faceplate was connected to a head, in turn a whole body, lay between two cracks in the cliff. At first he wanted to scream out in surprise, but instead he simply clicked on his com.

"I found her."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Briar sat staring at a digital clock inside Angseth's office. The office was an offshoot of her personal quarters, and received much more traffic than his own office did. Her office, much like her room, was decorated very minimally. A few still holograms of her time aboard various stations, of shaking hands or tentacles with dignitaries, decorated the walls and a single shelf. Most of the images had been deactivated. The digital clock hovered above her desk, slowly displaying the seconds, minutes, hours, and day. The clock provided the only light in the room, casting a blue haze over the carpet and walls. Behind her desk was a painting of an underwater scene on some far away world. Briar himself didn't care much for the painting, but Vera had loved it, so he bought it for her at an auction. As a sign of her gratitude, she placed it behind her desk.

Even with the faint light, he could still make out the shapes and brush strokes that rendered sea-life on the canvas. He didn't need much light to see, one of the advantages he had over humans on board the _ Mabus_. The clock ticked down the seconds. Vera had said twenty-four hours, to wait for her for twenty-four hours. At the moment, twenty-three hours, forty-five minutes, and thirteen seconds had passed. Soon the counter would read zero. Once it reached zero, he would officially assume command of the _Mabus_, and continue the mission to SR3-88.

_ Have you finally bitten off more than you can chew? Why haven't you at least tried to contact me? _ He thought, watching the seconds tick away. This wasn't the first time they had been apart, and it wasn't going to be the last time either.

There was also the matter of the survivors that had been recovered from the Seattle. Five cryo-Pods had been removed from the A deck of the station. All five were currently down in the med-bay with Dr. Sakari Bearn. The cryo-pods looked to be of an older model, however life-signs were stable on the occupants. Briar had given Dr. Bearn specific orders to report to him as soon as the five people awoke so that he could question them. Hopefully they would have some information on the fate of the Seattle.

He turned his attention back to the painting, studying the swells of the ocean waves so carefully created. He supposed that he could see what Angseth had liked about it. It did provide a sense of tranquility. _Will I see you again my beloved?_

A light chime sounded. Briar shifted his gaze to the clock, and then straightened himself in his chair. He looked to the com, hoping that maybe some message from Angseth had gotten through by now. After another still minute had passed, Briar took a deep breath, and ran his fingers through the fur on the crown of his head. He reached for the com, and opened a channel to the ships navigator, Lieutenant Bagra.

"This is Lieutenant Commander Briar, please continue on course to SR3-88."

"Yes sir, anything else?"

Briar thought for a moment. "Invite Captain Tomas and S.O. Svenson over for a formal dinner."

"Aye sir."

Briar leaned back in Angseth's chair, then reached into his shirt and pulled out a leather cord. Angseth had given him this necklace. It was a simple black cord, with a large tooth or talon tied at the end, capped off with a thin layer of gold. Vera had told him that it was a Metroid fang, taken from a beast that she had slain herself. She wore a matching one.

Briar ran his fingers over its smooth surface. He never questioned its authenticity. Briar tucked it back into his shirt, letting it settle against his fur.

Angseth would come back to him, be it in the flesh or in his dreams, she would return.

* * *

Angseth sat with her head down, her gaze fixed on the collar of her black t-shirt. Her head hurt. They had taken her power suit and weapons, leaving her wearing only a pair of camouflage printed pants, and a black t-shirt. They were the clothes that she normally wore under a power suit. She found no need for the leotard thing that most wore. She simply didn't need that much padding. Her boots had been taken as a precaution in the event that she decided to escape. She supposedly would be less inclined to want to run over alien terrain in bare feet. A pair of restraints had been clamped down on her wrists, another pair around her ankles. From what little information Vera could gather, she was currently detained on one of the ships used as a base of operations. Her head hurt due to her reluctance to come peaceably from the cliff face. Once Jones had located her, it seemed as if every last marine in the Seven Systems came to remove her. Angseth had been plucked from the cliff face like an unwilling hermit crab.

The room was of a fair size, the walls plain gray plasteel, lit by several light bars imbedded in the ceiling. The floor was constructed of corrugated steel, with texturing for traction. The room had no decoration, not even so much as graffiti on the walls. Before Angseth was a large steel table, seemingly poured from one solid piece of metal, bolted to the floor, with a chair placed at either side. Angseth sat in one of these chairs, her arms pinned behind her, and her legs underneath.

Vera tested the restraints; they had been made of a high-quality alloy. Most restraints she could break, or at least distort to the point where she could free herself. She came from a super-dense world. Humans had lived with the high gravity for so long that they had adapted by developing harder stronger bones, more muscle mass to move around easily, and unfortunately for Angseth, a stocky build in a race obsessed by a tall slender female form. Yet her build did have its perks. She had a low center of gravity, which gave her good balance and she was steady with a gun of almost any size.

And she possessed the ability to flip a car with her bare hands.

The door to her right opened, and Angseth heard suit-clad footsteps. They paused on the other side of the table. Angseth still stared down at her t-shirt. It would take more than a glass of water to clear this headache. A pile of papers dropped before her, drawing her attention away from her collar. Her head lifted, causing pain to move from the base of her neck to the crown of her head. Her vision wavered for a moment, then grew steady again.

"Please sign that."

A man with captain's bars over his right bicep sat down at the table across from her. He removed his helmet, reveling a spill of blond hair that was longer than regulation, and blue eyes, almost perfect skin. Angseth supposed he could be considered handsome by a few. He lifted his hand revealing a small round key-chain like device. He depressed a button and Angseth felt her cuffs loosen. She brought her arms to her side, feeling the tenseness in her shoulders release.

"Captain Fredrick I assume." Angseth pulled herself up and sat up straight in her chair. The angle was awkward and uncomfortable, even with her arms freed, her legs were still pinned.

He spoke as if he never heard her. "I am Captain Fredrick, commanding officer of the Battleship _Seacrest_. And you my lady are far removed from your post." He tossed his hair carelessly from his eyes, never once making eye contact with her, reading aloud from a data prompter. Fredrick drew his bottom lip over his teeth, creating sucking sounds before he continued. "You are aware that a Captain abandoning their post is a fate punishable by death. However we of the Confederation understand the nature of kidnapping, and that a Captain of your caliber would be worth quite a ransom. It's a damn shame that such a highly decorated bounty hunter so loyal to the Confederation would have fallen into such desperation." Fredrick leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. "Now if you only sign those papers, then we will gladly escort you back to your post and forgive this little discrepancy."

Angseth studied his gaze for a moment. She didn't like those eyes. "And what do these papers say Captain?" She asked.

"It is simply a report that Samus Aran had kidnapped you and we safely brought you back." He began to spin the key-chain on his finger. Angseth studied it as it spun around. It required a power-suit to use. There was no way for Angseth to duplicate the electric frequency without a suit. The key would be useless to her.

Instead she studied the papers. A standard pen lay next to the stack. She agreed that she was in serious trouble for leaving her post, but Aran did not kidnap her. If she didn't sign the papers, Fredrick would have every right to kill her here and now. However if she did sign them, Aran would be taken into custody. Captain Fredrick would be aware of this.

Angseth didn't know much about him, but she had met Fredrick on a few occasions, usually in the company of Admiral Mirson. Mirson liked to keep his men close. His favorite ship Captains and Fleet Admirals were obvious. They usually had the choice of newer vessels, assignments, and hand-picked crews. All Mirson asked in return was unending loyalty, and the occasional special assignment. Angseth would bet every penny in her bank account that this was a special assignment. Yet she couldn't complain about the favorites system. It was no secret that Angseth herself was one of Admiral Mizzen's favorite. It was how she kept her crew together, how she was able to maintain a steady crew and secret relationship with Briar.

Even though the Seven Admirals were powerful, they were not above the Senate and the general law of the land. Mirson would need a legal reason to arrest Aran. Angseth began to wonder if she had played right into their plan. She knew that Fredrick didn't believe the kidnapping story. It was a more convenient way to leave the paper work behind them.

"I have all night Mervera."

Angseth felt her blood begin to boil. She hated it when people called her by her first name. She managed to bite back her anger. She then said softly,

"I need time to think."

Fredrick stood, taking his helmet with him. He pressed the button on the key-chain again and Angseth's wrists slammed back together, drawn by a minor force shield. "I'll give you an hour. Think it over carefully."

Angseth stared down at the paper, and readjusted how her arms lay. She tried to think past her headache by reading the first line out loud. "I Mervera Diane Angseth, swear that all the information contained within this report is accurate as of this day," She sighed deeply. If anything that line added to her headache, caused it to settle in the back of her head and spine once more.

_Why on paper and not a data pad? Why such a permanent and easily disposed of medium?_ She shook her head, causing the metroid fang to sway out of her shirt. Vera was at a loss for how she could leave this situation with as little bloodshed as possible. She supposed that she could take the heroes way out and stand by her morals, or she could go the way of the coward, and take the bait then let the blame fall on Aran.

_Those can't be the only two options. I don't necessarily have to choose the options that Fredrick has set before me. _Angseth closed her eyes, trying to push the pain back enough so she could think. _Okay, what is my current scenario? You are cuffed and restrained aboard an "enemy" ship. They have offered you a way off, but if you take it, someone you care about will die. So why am I here? Why haven't they just killed her __and me by now? Because they want you alive, and they want her alive. Why? To follow protocol. And the paper documents? Paper is still an accepted form of documentation, even though it takes longer to process than digital files. Time, they're trying to buy time. Time to make everything look like normal, so no one would question the situation. Captain Fredrick is as much Mirson's lackey as Thomas is. Mirson would send someone he trusted to ensure the completion of this mission, to ensure Aran's capture and for myself to just disappear. After I sign the paperwork, there is no guarantee that I will make it back to the _Mabus_. Its been known that Mirson has been trying to break away from the Seven Admirals, and has had his share of events that just don't add up. So now, how do I break away from him?_

Angseth began to review alternate scenarios in her mind. She could not stay here, but she had no escape route. Aran couldn't stay on the planet either, that is, if she was still on the planet. Vera began to review the terrain she remembered and the way she had come. Her mind suddenly fixated on the odd sight she had seen while seeking a place to hide.

An entire clearing had been covered in ice. Obviously not natural, but ice and coolant, like the kind marine issued ice guns made. The guns basically shot a beam that would super-cool any water, no matter how small the amount, in an object and in the air. They were used for various terra-forming exercises, or to clear roadways. Once the ice formed, it was easier to break up materials. She couldn't guarantee that they had never been used on living things, as it tended to kill them.

_Metroids don't like cold. They don't like Ice._

Angseth suddenly lifted her head, her eyes wide with sudden realization. "Aran…" It all made sense now. Her clear armor, no or little existing bone structure, her dream where her life-force was taken and given to Aran, the dried up pirates on the Seattle, and Angseth's own power suit. She had started with over four full tanks, and after Aran had touched her, all the energy drained. Metroids sucked the power out of things.

Samus Aran had become a Metroid.

With that thought, the stack of papers before her ceased to exist. Angseth began to take inventory of what she had at her disposal.

_I'll need to move fast, or they will be all over me. My cybernetic leg will help, but I can't take down solders in power suits with it alone. I have my strength. Not many people know about that. I need to get out of here!_

Angseth knew that she had been in tough situations before, and as long she kept a cool head she could get out of them. This wasn't just her own life on the line. She didn't know exactly what they needed Aran for, but if Aran was a Metroid, one of the most dangerous little critters the cosmos could throw at civilization, then a weapon of that magnitude did not belong in the hands of anyone, let alone Admiral Mirson.

_What is standard procedure for holding a prisoner like myself? Two guards outside the door. I'm not sure which ship, or exactly where in it I am, but by the general size I can guess I am in a briefing room, not a holding cell. That's a big mistake on Fredrick's part if I am. That means that this will be a low-level security area. I need to get out, find Aran, and see if I can break her out. I don't think I'll need to do much after that. Aran is a grown woman and can take care of herself._

Angseth then turned her attention to her cuffs. If she could get her hands free, then she could free her feet. She tested them again, to see what kind of give they had. Standard issue cuffs were solid chunks of metal that locked together on the outer and inner wrist. It wasn't impossible to break them, just difficult. From the weight and feel, they were composed of Talloric alloy. A decent substance, but still not good enough to contain her. The key to breaking these cuffs were in the locking mechanism. If one were able to break the outer locks, then the middle only required a twisting maneuver to pop the remaining lock. Angseth took a deep breath, and began to twist her wrists outward. The metal bit into her skin as she pulled. The muscles in her arms and back began to ache as she strained, yet the metal still held its form.

"Come on…" The metal didn't give as it should have. The edges of the cuffs bit further into her skin, sending waves of pain up her arms and into her shoulders. Angseth bit back her cries as tears escaped down her cheeks. The cuffs were giving a little, but not enough to twist them open. "Come on…I refuse to die here…I promised Briar that I would be back." She let up, relaxing her arms. Angseth took in a deep breath and let it through her lips in a hiss. Once again she closed her eyes, then took a few more deep breaths. She let her mind clear until her body relaxed. Vera knew that she needed to stop wasting energy fighting both the pain and the cuffs. It was hard enough to fight a war on two fronts.

She began to pull again, this time embracing the pain, allowing it to fuel the anger and frustration that often got her into trouble. Anger management was something that had to be self-taught. On the Isrec mining colony, Anger was considered a status symbol. One had to be angry enough to fight the rock and keep coming back the next day to do it all over. In typical Confederation society, mostly everyone was docile, so happy in their individual illusions of security that anger was not necessary. People like Angseth stood out like blood on a white canvas. Miners had been called barbaric, subhuman and so many other terms. For whatever reason, Angseth and her people grew angry. And when they grew angry, things tended to get smashed.

The first lock finally snapped.

Angseth let out another hissing breath, then twisted her wrists in opposite directions, causing the center lock to pop open. The metal hit the floor with a loud clatter. She brought her hands in front of her, and then examined her wrists. Deep purple bruises were already evident on her wrists and top of her hands. They would be sore tomorrow. She then began to scan the room for a weapon.

As expected, there was nothing save for the table, and the chair she sat on. The chair was one of those flimsy things made of soft plastic and steel tubes. The whole thing was too soft to be of any use. The table, as she had observed earlier, had been bolted firmly to the floor.

Vibrations through the floor signaled a presence outside the door. It hadn't been an hour yet had it? No, perhaps twenty minutes at best. Angseth quickly put her hands behind her back once more, and resumed the position that Fredrick had left her in. Improvisation would be her best tactic at the moment.

Captain Fredrick stepped into the room once again, and paused beside the table. Angseth saw the remains of the cuffs out of the corner of her eye, and grew still. Perhaps he wouldn't see them. The sliding door hissed as it closed. Fredrick stood for a moment tapping away at his datapad. She watched his feet as they moved around to the opposite side of the table, paused, then circled back toward the door again. Vera tried not to appear too tense or relaxed. She needed him to sit down, to get off his feet so she could be the first onto hers. He drew his lips over his teeth again, creating another sound, loud and clear even through his helmet. He must have had his air vents open, that was the only way she could think of that such a disgusting sound would travel. His heavy feet then circled back around the side of the table, sounds of the chair being moved, a slight creak as his weight settled. She heard a hissing sound, then the sound of his helmet being placed on the table.

"Now Mervera,"

Angseth took in a deep breath. "Please use my formal title until I have been tried. Until then I am still Captain Angseth." She still wasn't out of the woods yet. He could still see the remains of the cuffs if he bothered to look.

Fredrick gave her a wry smile. He pulled the paperwork close and scanned it.

Angseth adjusted her shoulders, hoping that it didn't seem unnatural for movement with restraints. She searched with her fingers over the back of the chair until her knuckles brushed against some of the piping holding the plastic pieces in place.

"Oh, silly me, you're still cuffed." He smiled more broadly. "Perhaps I should go ahead and loosen those for you." He stood, his hand reaching for the key-chain as well as the pistol at his side.

_Dammit, I need him to stay put!_ With her head still hanging she searched for something to stall him, finally she said. "What guarantee do I have that you will allow me to leave?"

Fredrick paused, his gaze resting on the back of her head. "As far as anyone else is concerned, this is a training exercise, other than that they would have no reason to detain you."

"But I just need to sign the paperwork." Angseth looked up, and fixed her gaze on his eyes. "I'll sign, but I would like one question answered, if you would."

"I'm not obligated to answer anything." His smile faded, replaced by a neutral expression, one best saved for meetings and confrontation.

Angseth looked over the table at him, her brown eyes locked onto his features, staring him in the eye, watching his features. He began to grow defensive, good. Nervous? Even better. It was his fault for doing something as stupid as coming in here alone. If she stared at him long enough, she could make him crumble, but that wasn't her goal.

"Did you manage to capture Samus Aran?"

Fredrick didn't speak, nor did he make the mistake of trying to stare Angseth down. There was subtle movement at the side of his head, his ear had twitched. Small, subtle movement, almost hidden by his hair. That was the only sign Angseth needed. She smiled. Fredrick's stony glare dropped for a moment as he pondered the meaning behind that smile.

Angseth gripped the chair by the steel bars, and suddenly stood, bringing the chair over her head and down onto Captain Fredrick's surprised noggin. The chair bent and distorted as it glanced off his head and then hit the shoulder of his armor. He stumbled, reaching at his side for his pistol. In the same movement, Angseth swung her body up and over the top of the table, her cuffed feet met Fredrick's chin, she could feel his teeth graze over her bare skin. The momentum carried them both to the floor on the opposite side of the table. Angseth slid to Fredrick's right side, landing on her right hip.

"You bitch," He hissed through the blood on his face.

Angseth wrested the pistol from his hand. "You were going to kill me anyway." She leveled the barrel at his head. "Now give me the key to these leg braces or I'll use your face for a lock-pick instead."

Fredrick stopped fighting, and held his hands up in surrender. "On my left, in the side pocket. Aran is held in the dome at the center of the camp."

"Talkative now are we?"

"I have always respected you, which is why I didn't have you killed to begin with."

"Are you regretting that decision now?"

"No."

Talking was bad, talking bought him time, time Angseth didn't have. Angseth kept the gun leveled on him as she rummaged around in his storage pouch. There was the usual junk, random key cards, candies. Her fingers finally settled on the familiar weight of the cuff keys. She leaned over and insert the key in the lock and twisted. The cuffs fell to the ground. She rolled, hiding behind the thicker part of the table, taking the leg cuffs with her. Once the gun had been taken from his face Fredrick hit his personal com and summoned his guards.

"You'll not get far Angseth." He breathed.

"We'll see about that."

The door slid open, spilling three guards into the room. Angseth cocked her cybernetic leg back, and kicked the table near the base, where the bolts attached it to the floor. The bolts bent then snapped with the high-force kick, flipping the table over and bringing it down on the marines on the opposite side. She then jumped to her feet and ran over the bottom of the table, pressing and keeping the few pinned marines down. A third on the other side lifted his power cannon. Angseth sprang, and cocked her leg back, then felt her knee connect with his faceplate. He fell and she rode his body to the ground, and out the door.

_I've got to hurry._

Her bare foot hit the grated floor, her footfalls muffled by her flesh. The cybernetic leg rested with a hydraulic sounding hiss. The hall stretched out to her right and left, plain, bare, and disorienting. At any moment an alarm would be raised if it hadn't already and the hall could lock off. Large metal plates would drop from the ceiling or walls and block off her escape. This was a War Wasp model craft; she could tell by the way the plates in the floor had been arranged. The plates were designed to move and shift as the craft moved and contorted to the terrain. It was a drop ship but equipped with heavy firepower.

Angseth began running to her left. If she was correct, then this hall would lead from the officers briefing room and toward a hall that ran along the interior of the outer hull. There would be airlocks, and conduit ducts.

_I know they want me out of the way. But why? If Aran has become a Metroid, then why would they want to kill me? Did I just stumble into the wrong place at the wrong time?_

Angseth slowed her pace she came to a corner, she put her back against the wall, and slid down to a crouch on the floor. Holding her pistol at the ready, she quickly peeked around the corner. The hall was clear on either side. She held the pistol close to her, and began running up the hall staying low. She could feel distant movement in the metal floor. They were coming for her and from the feel of things, they were coming fast. After running for a few yards, she came to an airlock. She stood with her back against the door and peeked out the view window.

The marines had set up a standard base camp. Already several different structures had been erected, including a large dome in the middle of the camp. There were five drop ships that had been arranged in a circular pattern around the camp. Everything was textbook. To any casual observer, the whole operation looked like a basic training mission. For all intents and purposes it was. None of the troops had that edge of fear in their voices.

She reached over and hit the button to open the airlock. Once the door had opened wide enough to allow her body to pass through, she dropped to her knees, then grabbed the bottom edge of the airlock. She swung her legs outside and let her body hang for a moment while she located a suitable landing point for the twenty-foot drop below her.

_This will really hurt in bare feet._

She found an empty patch of ground then aligned herself and dropped. Surprisingly the ground was softer than expected. Angseth rolled with the impact of her fall. So far, so good. She continued toward a stack of supply crates, and looked up nervously toward the still open airlock. Angseth would need a suit. It would be suicide to move around without one. Once a suit could be acquired, then she would investigate the central dome.

The dome was a standard field science lab, mainly used to store and document specimens, or conduct minor research on minerals that had been discovered. A pair of guards stood outside the main entrance of the dome, and another pair by the secondary entrance. An exterior fence had been erected, and guards stood posted along the perimeter. Whatever was in there, they didn't want it getting out. Her fighter also had a perimeter fence erected around it, although there were considerably fewer guards.

Angseth heard the sound of power suit clad footfalls. She ducked behind the crate again, staying low to the ground. She slowly peeked around the corner of the crates to see a lone marine walking toward her. She waited for him to come closer, then stood and grabbed him from behind, then wrestled him down behind the crates. Either she was higher on adrenaline than she had previously thought, or this marine had no idea of how to use his suit to the fullest. Angseth prayed for the later.

Once his body hit the ground, he began to struggle. Now the actuators in his suit kicked in. He bucked underneath her reaching for his power rifle. Angseth pinned one foot in the middle of his back, then pushed the muzzle of the pistol past the protective plating on his neck, and against the interior Kevlar composite fabric. The marine stopped struggling, and lifted his hands in surrender.

"If you want to live, you won't move, got that?" She grabbed his shoulder and rolled him over, then had to smile when she read his name strip. "Got that, Private Jones?"

Jones grew very still. Angseth slowly pulled the pistol away from his neck, and pulled back, still keeping the gun pointing on his head.

_This is the guy that stepped on my head. Turned off his com line, defied orders and climbed down the cliff-face to step on my head._ Angseth mused. She looked him over, mentally measuring to see if his armor would fit. Jones appeared to be about her size, broad in the shoulder and hip.

Jones began to smile. Not even an hour earlier he had been talking to some of the other troops in his squad. As usual the topic of discussion was how much ass they had gotten, or the ass to come. Jones, for once, had been on the outside of the conversation, preferring to listen in. His tastes ran a different path than that of his comrades. Most of them had holos of girls back home, smiling, blond-haired, blue-eyed pin-up style pictures. He had been ridiculed for his taste in women before, and after getting commended for his heroic actions earlier, he didn't wish to sour the evening.

Currently there was a battlefield angel holding him at gun point. In her own armor, Angseth was easily as large as most human men in the marines. However this vision before him was a woman in every sense of the word. Her body was athletic and toned. Muscles were evident under her dark sienna skin. Biceps bigger than his own crested over the round barrel of her pistol in his line of sight. Strong capable hands closed around the grip and trigger. She had a narrow waist and hips only slightly more narrow than her shoulders. He couldn't see much past her black t-shirt, but Jones would bet his next years salary that she would have a tight washboard stomach to match those toned arms.

Angseth narrowed intense brown eyes on Jones. Jones would never forget those eyes for the rest of his life. Those eyes had first glared at him from behind the toe of his boot, now they were filled with annoyance and determination. However they we not cruel, they did not hate. She spoke, and he listened.

"Remove your armor."

Private Jones scrambled to remove his cumbersome exoskeleton as quickly as he could. As Private Jones became more exposed, Angseth began to wish that she had found someone else. Jones was…. happy to comply with her wishes. On second thought, this could work to her advantage. Not many men responded to her in this way, and that gave her leverage.

When his legs had been freed from his power suit, Angseth slipped the leg cuffs around his ankles, and then locked them. He could scream, but it would be worse if he ran away. She held her gun steady as she began to slip into the cast-off pieces of armor.

"One question Jones, what were you doing over here by yourself?" She asked.

"You'll have to earn that information beautiful." Jones responded with a smirk.

Angseth resisted the urge to rearrange his teeth. She pulled on his boots, and asked the question again a little more firmly.

"Getting beer sir."

"You're an idiot." Angseth pondered for a moment if she should just go ahead and shoot him.

"So they say sir,"

Angseth reached for his helmet, then slipped it on. "I really should beat the shit out of you." She opened the crate and peered inside. It had been stocked full of beer. Somebody obviously thought this would be a normal training mission. Angseth cleared out a few cases, and then grabbed Jones by his camouflage printed clothing and tossed him inside. She shut the lid, then picked up a case of beer and tucked it under her arm. If Jones had been on a beer run, then so would she.

_Dear goddess, I want to know whose stupid idea it was to host a training mission, and to capture both Aran and myself in it. _

Angseth heard a voice cackle over the com.

_"Attention, detainee Captain Angseth has escaped from her holding cell. She is to be considered armed and dangerous."_

Angseth didn't break her stride. She now had a power suit, now she needed to get Aran and get out. Easier said than done. She drew closer to the dome, trying to remember if Jones slouched when he walked, did he have a limp? If she couldn't get his walk down right, then this disguise wouldn't last long. Troops that knew Jones would be on to her soon.

Once again the com cackled._ "Attention, detainee Captain Angseth has escaped from her holding cell. She is to be considered armed and dangerous."_

Angseth walked up to the central dome. Jones wouldn't have clearance to this place, but he might have been used as an errand boy on occasion. The guards on the perimeter didn't seem to notice her. They would be too busy scanning the horizon for more incoming enemy craft, and any suspicious activity in the camp. As long as she acted like the idiot that Jones was, they would have no reason to suspect her. As predicted, the guards at the main door stopped her.

"I need clearance." The marine on the right reached out and placed a hand against her shoulder, stopping her.

Angseth didn't pause. In order to perform covert operations, and reduce suspicion, she had to act as naturally as possible. She first lifted the case of beer, then pointed to the dome.

The marine paused and said, "Did they put you on distribution detail again?"

Angseth shook her head and tapped the side of the helmet, then cupped her hand over where her ear would have been. She bent at the waist as if she were having trouble hearing him.

"God dammit Jones you really need to get that fixed."

Angseth nodded inside Jones' power suit, then opened the case of beer and pulled one out. She dropped it into his hand, and then patted him on the shoulder as she walked by. The marines parted, allowing "Jones" to pass.

Vera shook her head as she entered the dome. In her early days as a marine someone had pulled a similar stunt on her. Beer bribes were not an uncommon form of currency among the young and bored.

The dome itself was simply a large tent with a steel composite reinforced frame. When building science domes in the field, installing electrical components was unnecessary. All the utilities, plumbing, electrical, and others were already built into the frame. It consisted of one room, divided off into smaller sections. The floor was dirt, with a layer of grating suspended about a foot off the floor. Cables ran in the space between the grate and the dirt, carrying energy and water to various parts of the dome. Angseth stepped out onto a catwalk that ran around the perimeter of the dome. The center of the room had been divided off from the rest by chain-link fence reinforced with a minor shield. A cluster of scientists sat clustered around a set of holo-screens. Their gaze was fixed on whatever the screens displayed. The signal was encrypted, and Jones' suit did not have the proper decryption filters for Angseth to read the holo-screens.

The center of the room drew her attention. Blocked off by the chain-link, was a conglomerate of coolant tanks, power cables and transformers. Placed in the center of all this mess was a stasis tube laying horizontally on the floor. The inside of the stasis tube had been frosted over, preventing Angseth from seeing what could be inside.

She set the beer down, and began to slowly walk around the perimeter of the fence, looking for a door or opening of some kind. Angseth finally located the entrance, a simple gate that had been left unlocked. She pushed it open, then stepped inside. The machines and cooling towers hummed around her as she stepped toward the stasis tube. Through the frost she could make out pale yellows and muted red tones. Angseth stopped next to it, then raised her hand and wiped the frost away.

Aran lay inside, her hands and feet bound by restraining cuffs. The armor, now her skin, had become even more transparent. The bones that had been very evident earlier were now little more than suggestions of space inside the suit, or had melted away altogether. Angseth leaned closer, studying the glass and the frost that had built up inside the stasis tube. A thermometer on the side if the case read the temperature at well below freezing.

Angseth bit her bottom lip, and began looking for a control panel. Something inside the stasis pod suddenly caught her eye.

Something had moved inside Aran's arm. Something had flickered by under the surface of the armor. Angseth leaned closer, to get a better look. There was something inside Aran's arm. Something thick and long, that appeared to be like a tentacle. It moved again, rotating and spinning within the firm clear shell of the Varia suit. Angseth followed the long squirming thing up through Aran's bicep and to the large round shoulders. Angseth felt suddenly cold and frozen when she studied the contents of Aran's helmet.

Aran's skull had somehow changed shape. Aran's skull wasn't even connected to her body anymore. It rolled and free-floated, rotating completely inside the helmet. A few tentacles pulled up from the lower reaches of the suit and trailed after the skull as it spun around. Angseth's throat felt dry, her body went numb as the head spun. Soon she could see the remains of a cheekbone, small pieces of cartilage in Aran's nose that hadn't been absorbed by the armor. A pair of sapphire blue human eyes fixed on Angseth. A jaw and accompanying teeth began to move weakly behind the clear visor. They clicked together once, twice, then hung loosely affixed to an equally glass-like jaw.

Angseth tore her gaze away from the stasis tube, and then stepped backward. Now the adrenaline was kicking in. She took another step back, and ran into a cooling tower. That thing in the stasis tank was not Samus Aran. That thing was a nightmare pulled from the minds of many delusional scientists.

The cooling tower fell to the ground making a loud hollow sound. Angseth continued to step backward and tripped over the cooling tower.

_No…No…that's not Samus! THAT'S NOT SAMUS!_

A sound came from the stasis tube, Angseth looked back up at the tube to see one of Aran's hands weakly lift and knock on the inside of the glass. Angseth didn't want to see anymore. She didn't want to look at the stasis tank and the writhing mass of skull and glass inside.

"Jones!"

Angseth began to scoot away from the tank while down on all fours. She knocked over another cooling tower, then somehow managed to find her feet.

"Jones! What the hell are you doing in here?"

_No, No, get out of here. Get in your ship and fly far the fuck away from this place. That thing is not Samus, and if it was, she is far beyond your help now. _ Angseth felt an old familiar friend rise up in her breast. Fear. And Fear and brought his good buddy Panic. Usually Angseth had done a good job keeping both Fear and Panic away, or at least never saw them both together, but right now they had come in and blasted down the door of Common Sense.

_"Private Jones!"_ The com cackled to life inside her helmet. _"State your location!"_

The com didn't exist. Her own disguise at the moment didn't exist. At the moment all that mattered were Fear and Panic. She stood and began running. The beast was behind her, the Demon was ready to come and devour her soul any moment now, and she would need to put as much distance between herself and it as possible.

_"Jones! What is your location?"_

Disguise be dammed. Her ship was out there, sitting serenely and fully repaired by now. Yes, marines and heavy artillery surrounded it, but that wouldn't stop her. She could take them, whether she could or not. She would reach her ship or die trying. Because Fear and Panic told her that the thing in the tank wanted her. Angseth would not suffer the same fate as Samus; she would not go quietly into that never-ending night.

She ran, barreling past the two guards at the door, knocking each one over. She picked up speed once outside, and then broke into a full adrenaline induced run. The tentacles within the shell of Aran's body had shaken her sanity. No, there was no possible explanation of how that could be Aran, not the clear skin, not the obvious facial cartilage showing through the clear and semi-clear areas of the facemask. It all had to be some extravagant hoax to try to catch her, and get her court marshaled or worse.

_"Attention, Detainee Captain Angseth has been spotted near the central science dome. Apprehend and proceed with caution."_

Angseth ran faster as shouts were raised around her in the camp. Before the guards around her craft had time to react and train their weapons on her, Angseth had scaled a stack of crates, and used them as a platform to jump from. She sailed over the heads of the marines, and landed on the wing of her fighter. Her feet had no sooner touched the metal of her ship when laser fire began peppering the metal around her. Angseth tucked her head down and ran along the wing, then made a dive for the interior

of her cockpit.

She hit her steering column hard, then cringed when her ship began to emit an intruder alarm.

_"Unauthorized personnel detected."_

"Shit," Angseth opened her com to her ship and shouted, "Voice print verify! Mervera Diane Angseth!"

_"Voice print confirmed."_

Angseth ducked another barrage of laser fire, and gave another voice command to her ship. "Raise shields!"

The shields activated as Angseth pulled herself up onto her seat. Once the shields had been activated she sat safe and sound inside her own protected bubble. The canopy on her ship lowered, as she locked her feet onto the pegs.

There wasn't enough time to fully warm the engines. The take-off would be rough. The drop-ships surrounding her craft began to level their main guns on her fighter. Her holo-screens began to display the statistics of the various ships around her as well as a radar read-out of all those attacking her craft. Angseth stood in the pegs and gunned her engines.

The fighter lurched forward, dragging along the ground and churning up earth with the wings. An alarm inside the cock-pit sounded as the drop ship to her left fired upon her fighter. Angseth let out a small surprised shriek as her shields absorbed the almost point-blank impact. The blast caused her fighter to list sharply to the right, dragging one wing in the dirt. Angseth gunned the engines again causing the fighter to a sharp 180-degree turn, and rear upward, placing its engines on the ground.

Angseth jumped on the accelerator, giving the thrusters everything she had. The fighter spun, then launched upward like a wayward Saturn 5 rocket. Smoke, dust and ash spread through the camp causing disorientation and confusion among the troops.

The fighter had only launched 300 meters into the air before an alarm went in the cock-pit notifying Angseth of another incoming attack. "Come on…Come on…" She waited for the next shell launch, and then rolled with the impact. The jarring on her shields caused her ship to list sharply to the left. However she was still on an upward trajectory. A few holograms around her began blinking showing critical main engine damage.

Angseth growled, then pulled a holo-screen close and began to manually bypass secondary systems within the engines. "All right assholes." Angseth hissed. "If you want to take me down you had better get creative!" She braced herself as she input the last codes.

_"Warning, dangerous proximity to other vessels,"_

"Override!" Angseth shouted. She could see more ships coming after her on the radar. The shields couldn't take any more impacts. The next one would destroy her fighter and her along with it.

A low vibration moved though her ship as the primary engines shut down. Angseth felt her internal organs take on the consistency of water as time appeared to ripple around her. The vibration spread through her cybernetic leg and into her bones. The warp core had been engaged. Angseth held onto her steering bar as the pressure finally overcame her.

Angseth's fighter left the atmosphere in a crack of thunder. The wake from the energy as the fighter warped out proceeded to topple a few drop ships, and in some cases causeing minor damage to the hulls. For a one hundred mile radius a massive dust cloud rolled across the planet.

It would be two days before help could arrive.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

_"In other news, Chairman Kltrlf has announced the lifting of trade sanctions within the Kartera system to allow more goods to flow to those suffering from a recent earthquake on their home world of Starkartera IX. She is confident that this decision will assist the people of Starkartera IX in their recovery efforts to-"_

The holo-screen flickered to a new channel, depicting some movie that cast a faint glow over the darkened room. Alien music pumped over the sound system, composed of odd sounds and distorted melodies. The music added to the comfortable cacophony in the bar. Bottles of liquor, with labels in strange languages lined a glass shelf before a large mirror. A bartender that seemed to be made of mostly granite stood mountain-like behind the bar top composed of polished slate. In his hands he held and polished a glass that had been carved from a solid chunk of crystal. Once this piece had been cleaned and dried to satisfaction, the bartender put it away with the others.

Races of many systems came through Feld's Bar. Most of them hailed from the surrounding mining stations, and some were only passing through while transporting goods across the galaxy. Feld listened to his customers talk. Languages and dialects from all over the Lower Systems flew through the air created a melody unlike any other. News from the Border, Outer Reaches, and even the Kessel Empire ran across his mind, the more juicy bits filed away for later perusal.

The creature that stumbled into his bar five minutes ago was turning heads. It stood about two and half pierce tall, and wore odd black clothing. It walked with a slight limp, either due to an injury, or perhaps it was some kind of cultural dance, like how the Ipsim race refused to enter a room that was not perfectly round, or had least had circles as part of the décor. This creature was about a third of the height of anyone else on this entire station. It limped over to the bar, extended arms that had been previously tucked into its clothing, hoisted itself onto one of the bar stools, and then sat down. Feld thought it comical that this tiny dark skinned fleshy creature was sitting at his bar, barely tall enough to even reach his kneecaps, like child imitating an adult. Atop the creatures head was a small patch of fur, cut closely to the skin. At what the bartender took to be it's front, all of the being's sensory organs sat clustered in one spot. Feld had seen better looking guests, but none so odd.

Feld put on his most professional demeanor and walked over to see if the little beast wanted a drink. After all, It was a customer, and at Feld's Bar everyone was welcome.

Feld spoke in Bfre, the most common language in this sector. "What would you like?"

The creature looked up, fixing all of it's sensory organs toward Feld. Even though Feld had never seen one of these things before, he could tell that this little beast was exhausted. It surprised Feld even more that the beast answered in flawless Hlset, the native language of his people.

"Do you accept Confederation Credits?" it asked.

Feld paused, then responded in Hlset. "Confederation? You're a little far from home."

The creature nodded. "It's all I have on me."

Feld thought for a moment. Confederation Credits did have a decent exchange rate, especially if he went through the right sources. "I'll accept them, although I don't expect anyone else on this station to."

"Thank you. I would just like a glass of water then."

Feld went to the opposite end of the bar, searching for a glass that could possibly be small enough for this creature to drink from. He eventually found a shot glass, then filled it with water.

"Hey barkeep!" a voice whispered harshly at his elbow.

Feld nodded. "I'll be there in a moment to take your order."

"You gonna let that Human stay here?"

"Human?" Feld look down the bar toward to the little black-clad creature. "Is that what that is?"

"Yeah, you better be careful. Rumor has it that the Confederation is expanding in this sector. I've just gotten back from a delivery on the Frontier. That Human is military. Those are Captains ranking bars on its clothing."

Feld grew quite for a moment, then spoke. "I have never turned anyone away because of origin or alignment, but your concern is noted." He walked down toward the end of the bar, where the beast still sat.

The Human looked up as Feld set the glass of water down before it. He paused a moment before letting go of the glass. A subtle warning.

Humans were dangerous. Anyone could see their long and bloody history in carving out kingdoms in the stars. This was a ranking officer, and humans always traveled in packs. Did this one have a pack waiting somewhere? For the safety of his other patrons, Feld decided to ask for more information.

"Are you alone?"

The Humans shoulders seemed to slump, as if it had been expecting a question of this nature. "Yes. I came to this station alone. I became lost in a wayward warp. I am Captain Angseth of the Confederation Battle Cruiser fleets," it paused and took a sip of water. The shot glass seemed to be just the right size for it. "If I am making your other customers nervous, I'll pay and leave."

"That won't be necessary. Thank you for the information. The water is on the house."

The creature rubbed it's head, right above its eyes. "I promise not to cause any trouble."

As the bartender walked away, Angseth held the glass before her, looking down at her reflection on the surface of the water. It wouldn't surprise her if she were the only Human on the station. Mining stations always had a wide variety of races. However Humans were not usually among them. Humans, while considered numerous and dangerous, were not the first choice when it came to mining. Angseth wouldn't argue. Even her race was only qualified to mine "soft" resources.

This station was just beyond the Border, a line of space that divided the Confederation territories from the other kingdoms and empires in the rest of space. The patrons of this bar were understandably wary around Humans. Beyond the Border were mainly peaceful underdeveloped races. The only thing that really saved them was the battered moral code that had been established during the Federation Era. However Federation laws had been lacking adaptation qualities when it came to the changing needs of society and the dawn of newer more productive industrial age.

Transition between the "Galactic Federation" and the birth of the "Galactic Confederation of Allied Systems" had not been an easy one. In the history logs it had been referred to as the "Bloodless War." Only one injury had occurred during this fragile time, one representative had assaulted another over a disagreement in new trade guidelines. The new laws and documents had then been recorded in a large database labeled "Confederation Laws and Reform Constitution."

As a result of the new laws, room for a larger military had been made. Instead of the military acting as a police force, political entities were allowed to govern their own space and sectors, thereby freeing up much needed manpower to help quell uprisings, and fend off the occasional invading force. The military had been taken out of the hands of the Senate Chairman, and placed in the hands of the Seven Admirals. The Seven Admirals in turn each acted as the Governor in Chief of their own sectors of space. Each sector had been named after one major constellations that had been used for navigation in the past. This also made the naming of planets and newly found systems much easier.

During the transition phase, Angseth had been promoted to ship Captain. That title meant that she could Captain any vessel from the size of a drop-ship to a mega cruiser. Anything larger than a mega cruiser, or a vessel that carried civilians, she would need a ranking of Admiral. Even the rank of Admiral had been broken down into several levels. Admiral I enabled her to command a civilian-bearing vessel. Admiral II, and she could command up to five ships. Admiral III, and she would have the charge of a station. Fleet Admiral, and she could have an entire fleet, up to one hundred ships at her command. That rank was followed by Fleet Admiral I, II, and III. To be a System Admiral, also known as one of the Seven Admirals, one had to be elected by a military tribunal.

Angseth knew that at least three of the Seven Admirals regretted her promotion as she had only caused them trouble ever since. Admiral Mizzen had taken her under his wing so to speak. She was the Captain he deployed when something needed to be done. Not because she was the best, or even the most organized, but because she was reliable. She would take any mission from him without question, and never looked back once the mission had been completed. Because of this she was granted certain favors within Mizzen's fleet.

Interracial couples were often frowned upon. Planet-side, citizens felt that no greater injustice could be done to the survival of a species. In space, the concept of race ceased to exist when one had been working alongside an individual for an extended amount of time. She and Briar had been dating for ten years now. Admiral Mizzen had been kind enough to turn his head and allow Briar and Angseth to serve on the same vessel. Angseth knew Mizzen well enough by now to know that this was Mizzen's little way of getting back at the system, to plant one small seed of change in an otherwise barren landscape. Likewise, even married couples of the same species were not supposed to work together on the same ship. Dr. Sakari and Zaine Bearn were not supposed to be assigned the same ship to serve their term. Once again Mizzen had purposefully placed the two together under Angseth's command. To keep a low profile, Angseth had been performing training missions on her last two tours of duty. Each tour lasted roughly three years. In those three years Angseth had been assigned a crew of some of the roughest cadets she had ever laid eyes on. In exchange for the luxury of being able to sustain a working relationship, she had been assigned the duty of repeatedly turning a sow's ear into a silk purse. One by one the wills of her cadets had been molded under her watchful eye.

And when another assignment landed on her desk signed by Mizzen, she only needed to nod and sign onto it.

Angseth drank deeply from her glass of water. The water tasted as pure as water on a station could. It was lukewarm, with no ice to keep it cool. All the same it felt good going down her throat. She set the glass back down, watching the water settle and creating a mirror-like surface once more. She missed Briar. Over the nagging guilt in her heart, there was the guilt of placing him in a position she knew that he didn't like. The crew was still young, but good and eager to do their best. Briar seemed to be more attuned to their needs and wants better than Angseth had been. If anyone could keep that crew together Briar could.

After she had lost her leg, Nevada had been the one to help her walk again, to help her find a cybernetics specialist that could create a limb strong enough for daily wear and tear. He had been there throughout her recovery, and when she returned to active duty, Nevada had quit his position as Medical Personnel for a new career as a Security Officer. Angseth didn't quite know exactly who made the first move, herself or him. But one night she found herself in his arms, locked in a deep embrace with his lips over hers. She could still remember how his small whiskers had brushed her cheek. Nevada's embrace had always been warm and his fur and scales so comforting on her skin. She liked it when they were laying in bed together watching some program on the holo-screen, and she could hear as well as feel him purr.

Angseth suddenly shook her head and then took another sip of water.

_ This isn't good. Already I'm starting to miss him, my ship and my nice warm bunk. I need to stay focused. I'm out here for a reason._

Instead she turned her thoughts away from the warm and comforting, and to the more pressing matters at the moment. When her ship had come out of warp, two missiles had followed, and even though their warheads had been rendered inactive by the longer flight, two heavy objects slammed into what had been left of her main engines. It had been by sheer luck that she had made it to this station by using minor thrusters. It would be a miracle if she could actually have her ship repaired on this station. Currently her ship was parked in a repair bay on the lower levels. A mechanic named "Clersk" had requested some time to go over the ship and see if there was anything he could do. Angseth agreed only because she was hungry, thirsty, and most of her rations had been taken along with her Captain's power suit. The rations still left in her ship she wanted to keep in her ship in the event that she needed them later. If her fighter were fixed, this wouldn't be her last stop.

Once she had reached the upper commerce levels her hunger had left. But she was thirsty. Angseth had stepped into Feld's Bar because in comparison, it had been the quietest she had come across thus far. The water had helped to clear her head, and allow her mind to wander into more comfortable mindsets. Once she left this station, Angseth didn't know if she should return to the _Mabus_, or perhaps gather more information about Aran's capture. During her trip to this station, Angseth discovered that the file Aran had transmitted to her was still stored in her ships computer. Angseth had scanned the file, and then sighed.

The file had a standard military encryption, but had been written entirely in Chozo. Angseth didn't know Chozo, and the Confederation data banks only had limited samples of Chozo language. The Chozo were an ancient race, very reclusive, and only participated in Confederation Senate meetings when advancements in new technology threatened their migratory routes, which in and of themselves were kept secret. Angseth knew that if she downloaded the right program from the Confederation data banks, then she stood a chance of translating the file. However, if she did download the program, then the Confederation would know where she was. At the moment Angseth didn't know if it would benefit her or not for the bulk of the Confederation to know her location, and why it was so far away from her post on the _Mabus_.

Angseth didn't even know if the file was genuine, or if that thing really was Samus Aran. But who else could write in fluent Chozo? Depending on how badly she needed the file translated, Angseth could either return to the _Mabus_ and download a program to translate the file there, or find a sample of already translated Chozo language to compare the file to. If she just had an image of an inscription then she could run it through a basic multi-lingual program on her fighter and have it over with. The biggest problem she had with this decision was that her fighter currently had no files on it from which to pull an image from. Again she was faced with the possibility that if she had logged into the Confederation data banks to retrieve an image, then they would know her location. Angseth didn't want the Confederation to know her location, especially after what had happened on FQ3-59.

No one had ever attempted to warp out while still in the atmosphere of a planet. The idea of warping from the atmosphere of a habitable world was almost akin to slamming a station or warhead into it. There was no telling what kind of chaos her wake had caused, or how many innocent lives she had taken with that maneuver. Angseth suddenly lost her thirst. Her limbs felt cold and heavy. For the first time since docking on this station she felt regretful of her actions. The Marines had been there to train. Most of them wouldn't have even been carrying live ammo. Had her wake sucked a few of them into the upper stratosphere? If so, what kind of repercussions would that action have? Perhaps even Aran had been caught in the wake, the fragile dome of the research center caved in to expose the interior to whatever elements Angseth had disturbed with her stupid lack of fore-thought!

_ That thing is not Samus Aran_. Angseth rested her head on the bar top. The smooth slate cool against her cheek. _Whatever it is, it is not Aran. Not anymore._

Angseth pulled the water closer, and sat up again. Whatever had happened after she left, if she was really in trouble she would hear about it on the military communications band in her fighter.

_ Stop worrying and think! You have a file; it must be an important file for Aran to upload it to you directly. Now where can I find a sample of Chozo writing?_

Angseth drummed her fingers on the table. Searching her memory for as much Chozo lore as she could remember. She couldn't go to the Chozo directly, they were a bit too elusive for that. Not even the Seven Admirals had access to their migratory routes. Which left the few ruins of the lost Chozo Empire that still existed after all this time. Zebes would not be of any use to her, that world had been destroyed long ago. What other known colonies did the Chozo have?

"Tallon IV," Angseth breathed. "But the ruins there had been destroyed, not to mention the acute radiation levels on the surface," she looked into her glass of water as if to find an answer in the numerous grooves and scratches in the bottom of the glass. "But what other choice do I have?"

"Human!" Someone across the bar called in pigeon-tongued standard.

Angseth lifted her head to the call, even though to only call someone by their race was considered to be rude. She spoke in Brfe, and the creature seemed to be surprised. As surprised as a creature with no eyes could be, at least not any eyes that she could see. "I speak Brfe. Come again?"

The creatures surprise melted away and became replaced by anger. "Cursed Humans taking the mines! Have ye not enough land to keep yourselves satisfied?"

Angseth paused. She had not been made aware of any Human colonies in this sector, especially not beyond the Border, it would break an innumerable amount of treaties, perhaps a private company was expanding their own property? She responded back to the creature. "I was not made aware of any Human activity in this sector. I am not here to take."

At this point Feld walked over to silence the outburst. Before things could get any worse, Angseth left a few credits on the bar top and slipped out of her chair. She didn't want to get the patrons of the bar any more tension over a Human present.

Vera stepped out into the hall. Feld's Bar opened into one of the central commerce pillars of the station. This particular area didn't receive many visitors due to newer areas that had been constructed, but this pillar still received a fair amount of traffic. She stepped out into the main flow of pedestrians, keeping close to the walls. Vera shifted and moved between legs, tentacles, and hooves. Most people on this station were much taller than Angseth, not to mention stronger. She never failed to feel like a small child darting around the ankles of adults on her way to her destination. A few creatures stopped to gaze down at her, most didn't even notice her presence. She learned a long time ago that larger races didn't look down often, and it was just better to keep out of the way.

Angseth stood near the wall and waited for one of the many elevators to open. She would take this one down to the lower bays. Hopefully Clersk would take Confederation Credits, and her fighter wouldn't require much work. The elevator doors opened and Angseth stepped inside, taking a place near the wall again. A few other passengers stepped on, loaded with belongings, food, tools, and smelling of all the odd substances that one could find on a station. She folded her arms and stood in thought as the doors shut. The trip would take about ten minutes.

_So where to now? The _Mabus_, or Tallon IV?_

Her mind kept going back to her brief stay on FQ3-59. Memories of Aran's body on a bed of ice and frost, tentacles moving underneath her clear armor.

_ But I've seen that face before? Where have I seen that creature before? _

Angseth looked up and watched the floors tick by. Her thirst and hunger had returned, yet nerves prevented her from going back to get food or drink. This station was large enough to have something that resembled take-out. She wished she had thought of that sooner.

* * *

Clersk was a large creature. He hailed from a dense world and seemed to be more suited for the mines than as a mechanic. Angseth was a quarter of his size. Clersk had dark blue plated skin, and wore mechanics overalls made of rough fabric. Angseth's fighter looked like a model craft next to his massive form. When she stepped into his shop, she noticed a tarp had been placed over her fighter and Clersk was sitting at his workbench tinkering with some small piece of machinery.

"Welcome back." Clersk stated. His standard was almost flawless.

Angseth pushed her hands into her pockets and walked up to Clersk's workbench. "So what's the verdict?"

"Not good. Missile bay doors are jammed, right rear thrusters have been almost destroyed, central guidance is out, and your landing gear as well as tow-hook have been damaged."

"How long would it take you to fix it?"

"A week to get the parts, perhaps another two or three to fix. Price is yet to be determined."

Angseth didn't have three weeks. She didn't like that Clersk had not yet named a price. She stood for a moment, studying her craft. "What if we scrapped the engines entirely, sold them here, and put another assembly on?"

"That would cut down on the time." He lifted his head and looked back at her fighter, seeming to weigh the options in his mind. "But that is a military craft, I don't know if I can get high-grade enough engines for such a ship."

Angseth sighed. "Mechanic Clerk, I have a lot of places to go. I need my ship to get to those places. I currently have ten thousand Confederation Credits on my person. All of those including another fifty thousand will be transferred to you provided that you can repair my ship within forty-eight hours. I don't care if you must completely gut the main engine cavity to replace them entirely. I must be able to leave in the next forty-eight hours."

"If you have that much money, why not just buy a new ship?"

Angseth smiled. "Because I've had this one for so long. It was the one that took my leg. Selling this ship would be like giving away a family member."

"All the same, can't be done in forty-eight hours."

"I can help. Not the first time I've had to work on my own craft, I just need tools."

Clersk didn't seem to be amused. He paused a moment, then said. "Ten thousand credits, in addition to the money I get from selling the engines."

"Fair enough." Angseth sat down on the wing of her fighter. May Mizzen forgive her for selling Confederation property. She guessed that if came up, then she at least had a good enough excuse for her actions.

Something on the ceiling caught her eye. Bolted to the rafters was a ring of engines. "What are those?"

"A project. Engines designed for racing vehicles."

"How much would those set me back?"

"Your fighter is too heavy for those to be of any use."

"I'll take your word for it." Angseth pulled her hands out of her coat, then unzipped it and slipped it off her shoulders.

"You're a female." Clersk stated.

Angseth paused.

"Human females are known for their docility."

"With a few exceptions." Angseth tossed her coat into the cockpit of her fighter. "People on this station have been staring a bit hard since I arrived."

"Not many have seen a Human before."

"I had been talking to someone in Feld's Bar who said that Humans had been making a push into this sector. I find that a bit odd because I would have heard about settlements. Then again beyond this point there are no planets with resources that the Humans would covet. I'm not like most Humans. It is part of my creed to help all races, not just the one I was born into, otherwise I could not call myself a ship Captain."

"You are different from some other Humans. So what is the news from the Confederation?"

"The Confederation…" she began. "Is going though the usual growing pains. You would think that so many races that have decided to unite under one banner would be a little more willing to get along with each other."

Clersk nodded. "Such is the case with this station. Quite often it ceases to be a melting pot and more like a war zone. It doesn't even take the threat of a different race, sometimes there are people from different tribes or clans wishing to tear out each others throats."

Angseth felt a soft smile spread over her lips. "My ship has no fewer than ten different species that serve on it. I've always worked hard to have a diverse yet cooperative crew."

Clersk studied her for a moment, then stood to his full height and began to reach for the ring of engines hanging from the rafters.

"Find a buyer?"

"No, a test pilot."

Vera laughed.

* * *

Angseth sat inside her cockpit leaning on the steering bar and practically standing on the accelerator. Clersks small bay echoed with the sound of engines whirring and whining as the new engines in Angseth's fighter struggled to ignite.

"Keep it up! A little more now!"

"My accelerator pedal is touching steel!"

"Turn it off!"

Angseth let up on the accelerator. The ship jarred, shaking in it's restraint harness, then the engines shut down. She leaned out of her cockpit, and glanced back to the rear of the ship where Clersk stood, an over-sized wrench in one hand. He pulled a panel free then reached inside. Angseth pulled herself out of the cockpit and sat on the edge of the open canopy.

"I've adjusted the fuel flow to provide more power to the engines. They may be fast, but they're also thirsty." Clersk stated as he worked.

"That won't interfere with the warp core will it?"

"No, the warp core is a separate system." He closed the panel, then shoved the wrench into his back pocket. "Alright, give it another shot."

Angseth slipped back inside her fighter and sat down. She started up the engines again, filling the bay with spitting and hissing noises.

"Dammit! Gun it as if the entire Gamma Fleet was on your ass!"

Vera hissed, then literally stood and jumped on the accelerator. The engines spat once more then settled into a more familiar whine. He fighter pulled at the restraints, almost bucking Angseth out of her seat.

"Alright good! Cut it off!"

Angseth rocked backward and let up on the accelerator. She laughed a little not expecting that kind of power. "Was that better?"

"You'd never make it as a racing pilot, but the new engines are now fully installed. Just a bit more tweaking and clean-up is necessary." Clersk set his testing panel down on the nearest workbench.

"I can handle clean-up. You've already been at it for twelve hours." Vera climbed out of her cockpit once more, and then walked to the rear of the ship. The original ring of engines had been broken down and placed in smaller clusters inside her old engine compartments. It had taken them the longest to modify the rear of her ship so it could contain the new engines, yet still maintain its structural integrity. Vera thought that the new engine cluster gave her ship a more gritty edge, made more so by the lack of matching paint. Like all new toys, she was eager to give these an official test run.

Angseth stepped back and put her hands on her hips. "Thanks Clersk. It looks great. Um…do we have any of those TerLog dumplings left?"

"A few I think."

"Good, I'm hungry all over again."

"That's odd. Humans don't usually eat TerLog,"

"I grew up on the Isrec Mining rings. I fear no food."

Clersk laughed heartily. "You're welcome to rest over-night. I'll make sure no one disturbs you."

Angseth smiled. "You can be sure that I'll be sending new customers your way."

"That would be nice." Clersk nodded. "Maybe if I get enough I can open my own complex."

"Complex?"

"Yeah, a shop this small is nice, but I dream of a larger shop where I can handle larger ships and engines."

"That does sound nice." Angseth began to clean up around her fighter, putting various tools back from where Clersk had gotten them. Partly out of politeness, and partly to settle her nerves. Once she had finished, she stepped into her cockpit, and opened one of her rear compartments. Jones' armor had been stored earlier in the section below where it could charge. She would have to put it on again before she left. Vera pulled a black blanket from a compartment, and removed her coat. She could sleep in her jumpsuit but would rather not. Nothing in her opinion was worse than clothes that had been slept in that also happened to contain electronic components. Instead she dressed in a pair of sweat pants and loose shirt.

Angseth stepped out onto the wing, the pistol she had taken from Captain Fredrick tucked into a shoulder harness. She had wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and sat down. The blanket matched the flat black of her ship. If she rested in just the right way, she could hide completely.

Vera liked the smell of engine fluids, and the smell of metal and tools. It reminded her of home, of the fighter bays of the _Mabus_, the smell of power suits.

With the small comfort of the gun at her side and the scent of metal in the air, she slept.

* * *

Vera had been chasing Aran for over four hours. She had crawled through tunnels, scaled cliff-faces, and even flew with the aid of a stolen jetpack she had lifted from some pirates. She had used the jetpack to gain access to high plateaus, and reach other areas her power suit usually couldn't reach. Angseth had lost sight of Aran, and now she had to find her again.

Locating Aran had been hard enough when Vera discovered that Aran had somehow acquired a new suit, and even more difficult when she witnessed the Hunter ducking in and out of various transport-like portals, then popping back up in different areas of Aether. The Splinters were still a pain, but not so much a challenge as just annoying.

Angseth had alighted on a tall spire of rock in the hopes of gaining a better view of the landscape. Scouting of this nature was frustrating; Aran had already been all over this terrain before Angseth. There was nothing that Angseth could discover that Aran hadn't already climbed all over. Which left the question that Angseth voiced into seemingly empty air.

"Where could Aran have gone?"

The jetpack thumped lightly against her back. Pirate technology wasn't made for it's stealth, but it more than made up for it in mobility. It was rough technology, but easily repaired. She had been impressed with its simple yet effective construction. The pack consisted of twin central units. One held highly flammable liquid to provide thrust, the other super coolant. Two air intake valves sat near her shoulders pumping oxygen to help provide thrust. The fuel itself burned clean creating little or no light like normal combustibles would do. Which meant that she could use the pack at night and not worry about being seen. Provided that the engine was kept clean it would not create a vapor trail. Jetpack use in the Federation had been discouraged due to the lack of practical purposes. Jetpacks also had the habit of structural instability due to intense pressure and warping of the framework from heat. The Pirates had overcome this by using super coolant that cycled through different chambers within the pack and framework. The coolant also acted as an accelerant in conjunction with the liquid fuel. When the fuel and coolant mixed, it created a chemical reaction between the two substances. The result was intense thrust and no heat to trace it by. The thought had crossed her mind that perhaps some Federation scientists could reverse engineer it for use among the GI's. The pack was perfect for basic reconnaissance of this nature. It also taught her a good deal more about flying.

A glint of gold caught her eye. No, it wasn't Aran. Aran had changed suits earlier. She no longer wore the gold-colored Varia suit. The last that Angseth had seen her, she had been wearing some dark contraption that looked as if someone had disassembled a jet engine and made a suit out of it. No this glint of gold was different, a pirate perhaps?

The glare of the sun lifted from the gold fleck. The glare wasn't as bright, but now that the object in question had been brought to her attention it became hard to ignore it. The piece of gold metal moved in short hops and jerks, almost as if something had taken hold of some shiny piece of metal and began dragging it along the ground.

Angseth crouched, the jetpack still thumping against her back. She adjusted the zoom function on her visor to examine the piece of metal. Her preliminary scans told her the object was over two hundred fifty yards away. The gold flickered again, and Angseth was finally able to make out the backside of some poor Pirate. The Pirate's body dragged the ground pulled by some unseen force. Vera scanned the area then felt her mouth drop when her scanner fell on what had been dragging the Pirate, picking at the body like a vulture on carrion.

A lone Metroid dipped down, picking up the Pirates arm, and used its small set of fangs to pick at the armor, in an effort to get to the chewy center of the pirates carapace. Perhaps the fangs weren't fangs at all, maybe they were more reminiscent of talons? A Metroid was a creature seemingly carved from green glass. Its body resembled a melting half-sphere, with six ivory talon-fangs on the under side of its body. Inside the glass-like shell, were three red orbs that pulsed from within. Occasional arcs of energy would travel between the orbs. The Pirate's body jumped as the Metroid tugged. The thought occurred to Angseth that perhaps the Pirate was still alive.

_It is kind of cute._ Angseth mused. The next thought that came to mind was the desire to get out of the open in the event that the "cute little thing" decided to give up on the Pirate and chew on something a little more lively, like her. This brought her attention to another current problem. The jetpack was loud. The Metroid was close enough to hear or feel it. If Angseth started the pack up again, it would alert the tiny green speck to her presence. She had already fought many creatures on this planet, and had no desire to add a Metroid to that list.

_Perhaps if I climbed down…_ Angseth peeked over the side of the column of rock.

Smooth stone all the way down.

"Great." Angseth breathed. She quickly glanced back over her shoulder at the Metroid. The Pirate lay completely still, and as her HUD verified, completely dead. The Metroid on the other hand was nowhere to be found.

_Oh shit, where did that little day-glow booger go?_

Angseth expanded her sensor range. She was sure that the Metroid had seen her. It was going to come up behind her, or some other angle and the last thing she felt would be those sharp little talon-fangs biting into her neck.

Her HUD suddenly blipped, causing her to jump. Her radar indicated a non-friendly to her immediate right. Angseth felt her fear crawl up her throat as she turned her head to revel a strange sight.

A Metroid hovered in mid-air roughly twenty feet away from her. Its talon-fangs shiny and ivory-colored in the shifting light of Aether's sun. The creatures green shell almost gem-like when viewed at this range. One of the first things that occurred to Angseth was the sheer size of the Metroid, roughly four feet across at its widest point. Vera froze. For a moment the Metroid was still, giving Angseth the false hope that maybe it hadn't seen her yet. Maybe it didn't know, maybe she had to move for this living emerald to see her. She could count four whole seconds before the Metroid began to perform a little dance of sorts.

The dance started as a wiggle, almost like a dropped coin coming to rest on the ground. It then gradually ceased wobbling side-to-side, and then began to pulse vertically.

_What is wrong with it?_

The Metroid completed its little dance and paused. Angseth pulled herself to a standing position. She was unsure as to what would happen next. For the moment curiosity had won over survival. She stood amazed as those talon-fangs were suddenly exposed and the Metroid flew at her full force. Angseth gasped, and took a step backward. Her foot rested on the edge of the rock, and she slipped, her arms pin-wheeled as her body began to fall backward.

"Screee!"

Gravity took hold as the Metroid suddenly buzzed by her head. The small talons on its underside scraped her visor. Angseth crossed her eyes looking at the surface of the visor as she fell.

_The little bastard left drool!_

Vera fumbled for her jetpack controls as her body fell through the air. The Metroid had missed her, but was already performing another little dance of doom before her.

_Okay, it was cute the first time, but that thing is too big to move like that!_

The jet pack came to life, propelling her toward the ground at an even faster rate. Angseth quickly twisted to correct her trajectory. Once she recovered from her fall, she headed skyward. Her HUD blipped again.

"Sker-Ree!"

"Gah!" Angseth performed a barrel roll to evade the Metroid. She held her breath as the little green dot zipped past her. "Tenacious aren't you?" She steadied herself in mid-air and lifted her power rifle, then squeezed the trigger and let off a burst of charged shots. The Metroid made a displeased gurgling noise, but was otherwise unharmed. "You're a tough little booger too."

"Sker-"

Angseth let her head drop back as she headed higher into the sky. She had tested the jetpack already to an altitude of only three thousand feet. Any higher than that and the chemical reaction lost thrust from the changes in air pressure. Perhaps the Metroid couldn't fly that high, or the altitude would affect it somehow.

"Sker-Ree!"

The Metroid slammed into her back, dead center of the jetpack. Angseth heard a crunching sound in her ears, her eyes opened wider when she saw one talon-fang tying to press it's way into the plasteel composite of her helmet. Her HUD also read that she was loosing altitude. The Metroid had either damaged her jetpack or it was strong enough to overpower the pack. Angseth raised her rifle and rammed the muzzle of it against the soft fleshy underbelly of the Metroid, then let loose with another burst of charged shots.

The Metroid screeched and immediately let go. Angseth once again found herself in the middle of a free-fall. Now she didn't know if the jetpack had been damaged or just stalled out. She groped for the re-start switch, hyperventilating inside her helmet. Thoughts of all those training holo-videos she had seen ran through her mind of poor soldiers that had suddenly found themselves on the losing side of a fight with the ground. She had giggled nervously as the poor soul on the holo-vid had executed an almost perfect face-plant from one thousand feet. Now the thought of the holo-vid only served to cause more fear rise up in her chest. She didn't survive this long to die with a crushed face and broken spine. Angseth could see her former perch in the distance, tall and serene like the landscape around it.

The jetpack suddenly sputtered to life on her back, and while it no longer had the power to provide upward lift, it at least created a bit of resistance to gravity. Angseth righted herself, then started to descend at an angle, allowing her body to slow before it could hit the ground.

She hit the dusty ground of Aether with enough impact to rattle her bones. Angseth ran for a few feet with the momentum of the fall, and then fell to the ground, her helmet grinding into rough sand. She lay still for a moment waiting for a damage report- if her body or suit had one to offer. After a moment the pain kicked in. The stimulants could do nothing to stop this new round of torment. It would be a miracle if she didn't need some kind of reconstructive surgery on her knees if she happened to survive.

"Sker-Ree!"

"Not again." Angseth rolled, new adrenaline coursing through her. The dust before her flew as the Metroid narrowly missed her head. Angseth fired a few more rounds at it, only to receive another annoyed gurgle. She hissed and fired again, then felt hopelessness come over her when the shots deflected off the Metroid's emerald surface creating no damage.

The Metroid began to dance again, and flew at Angseth fangs exposed. Angseth could only scoot feebly backwards as the Metroid locked onto her arm and back.

"Get off!" Angseth lifted her gun again and rested the barrel on her shoulder, then pulled the trigger. Most of the shots deflected off the surface of the Metroid, while one went stray and ruptured one of the hoses on the jetpack, causing super coolant to spray over the Metroid.

The creature screamed, then let go and backed away.

Angseth didn't waste any time in putting as much distance between herself and Metroid as possible. The Metroid still reeled from the coolant running over its shell.

"You don't like that do you?" she studied the Metroid**, **pausing for just a moment. Angseth reached over her shoulder and kinked the hose, keeping the coolant inside. She then reached for the controls, and adjusted the flow for maximum pressure. The hose began to vibrate with the increased force. Vera then pulled the hose around to her side and began to spray coolant on the Metroid from a distance. The creature acted like an undead in contact with holy water.

As more coolant dripped down the Metroids green surface, Angseth began to notice thin cracks begin to spread across the Metroids shell. "You really don't like cold."

The Metroid gurgled again then began to move away, chattering. Angseth began to look for an escape route. The Metroid really didn't deserve to die. The flow of coolant stopped and the Metroid lazily drifted toward Angseth once more. Angseth struggled to shrug the remnants of the jetpack off. This whole battle had been less than graceful, real fights rarely did end gracefully. The straps for the jetpack had become entwined in her power suit.

Angseth began to scramble for her gun again when the Metroid shook off the remnants of the coolant, then began its now familiar wiggles and gyrations. The gun was too far away for Angseth to reach. The Metroid flew at her again, making a final dive for Angseth's face.

Angseth gave up on both the jetpack and her rifle. She instead reached for her combat knife. Vera raised the blade in time to catch the Metroids soft and fleshy underbelly, impaling the creature on her arm. Talons scratched and dug into her power suit, making deep grooves and snapping cables. Angseth twisted her hand, creating a deeper wound inside the Metroid. It began to struggle, not so much as wiggle, but used all the force it could muster to escape.

Angseth felt a jerk on her arm, gasped as the Metroid began dragging her body along the ground. Her body lifted and became airborne momentarily. The Metroid slammed her body against rocks and other outcroppings.

"GRAAAHH!" Angseth twisted her own body until her feet touched the ground. The Metroid continued to drag her through sand and gravel. All the while the Metroid made a noise akin to a slowly dieing emergency siren. She could feel her armor begin to give. Once the artificial tendons in her armor went, her own muscles would be next. Her forearm would be pulled right off at the elbow. She needed to stop the Metroid from dragging her around like a toy.

Angseth kept her footing, alternately running or sliding along loose sand. Once she had herself righted, she began to seek ways to stop the Metroid's rampage. She still held tight to the knife inside the Metroid, while the Metroid still held tightly to her arm. Vera spied an opportunity. She extended her right foot out, and caught a small shrub on her ankle. This allowed her the little bit of leverage she needed. She twisted her body and threw her weight into directing the Metroids flight path toward the ground. She let go of the knife, and used the momentum to yank her arm out of the creature. The Metroid slammed into the ground, and began to roll away, it's shell now cracked and splintered.

"I'm sorry big guy." Angseth breathed. She grabbed the straps of the jetpack and pulled until they snapped. The jetpack fell to the ground, crushed and silent. The Metroid before her rolled into a boulder before coming to a stop. It whined and shrieked. Angseth could make out the shape of her knife wedged between two of the red orbs inside the Metroid. It was bleeding, hurt, injured, and in terrible pain.

Angseth looked at her arm, the armor had been all but shredded. She could even see the surface of her jumpsuit past the plasteel. That was too close to her own skin for comfort. She looked back up at the Metroid. It had lost its ability to fly, or survive. There was no way to know how long it would sit there, screaming, perhaps getting eaten by native creatures.

A thought suddenly came to her. The Purple Shit would hear the Metroid. The Purple Shit would come and take over the Metroid's body. Angseth didn't want to think about the possibilities if the Purple Shit somehow gained control of a Metroid. The Purple Shit preyed on the weak. The Metroid was weak. Angseth turned, heading back to where she last saw her rifle. She didn't want to kill the Metroid, but the consequences of leaving it alive, intact, or weak outweighed its welfare. Metroids were wild creatures, they could not be tamed.

Her hand closed around her rifle. She checked the clip to see how many rounds she had left. Twenty. Little or no sand had gotten into the main mechanism of her rifle, meaning that it would still fire properly. She slowly started back toward the Metroid.

The Metroid was still in the same position, whining and trilling sadly. Angseth paused, then lifted the rifle to her shoulder. Her HUD reveled a targeting reticule, and locked onto the Metroid. Her fingers on her right hand slipped through the trigger guard, while her left closed around the grip on the barrel.

_I don't want to kill it. But I need to. It fought well, it only wants to live. A dangerous as it is, it only wants to live._

Angseth lowered the gun and shook her head. She couldn't start getting compassionate for her enemy now. Was it battlefield stress? Had her sanity finally reached a breaking point? The Metroid wasn't even an intelligent creature. For intents and purposes it was a pet, a lower life-form from even the Pirates she fought. Yet it had fought. It had fought to live.

_Yet my comrades fought to live. So had the Splinters the Purple Shit eventually overcame. The possessed Pirates fought to live, but the Purple Shit came, and took them too. I can't let it take this Metroid! I can't afford compassion!_

Angseth lifted the rifle again, crosshairs once again rested on the Metroid. Vera closed her eyes and cleared her mind. She didn't have any one thing to focus on, so she focused on nothing, she took all the pity in her heart and removed it. It was in the way, she could not work with compassion or remorse to block her path. Angseth opened her eyes again.

The first shot hit one of the cracks, causing it to spread and spider-web across the Metroids green surface. She fired a second shot, a third, and then a forth. By the fifth shot, the Metroid exploded.

Angseth stood silent long after firm jelly-like chunks rained down around her. Normal status screens returned to the interior of her HUD. For a moment her brain could not register exactly what had happened. In the space of four minutes she had spotted, fought with, and killed one of the deadliest creatures in the known universe. Her knife sat nestled just inside what was left of the Metroid.

She felt cold. Even long after she shouldered her weapon and began to walk away, leaving her knife. She walked toward the shade of a rock. Halfway there, her legs gave out, and she fell to the ground. The last of her stimulants had been used to combat the Metroid. The next few hours, possibly days were going to be pure agony unless she could keep focused and gather new equipment.

Her HUD blipped. This time the signal registered as a "friendly". Angseth slowly turned her head to look in the direction of the signal.

Aran stood upon the rim of the canyon, no longer wearing the darker suit, but now wearing a suit made of shiny silver-like metal. Aran stood for a moment, almost casually, watching Angseth. Angseth pushed herself up on her hands and knees, then rolled toward the rock, leaning against it. Aran lifted her right arm, and with it her arm cannon in a salute-like greeting.

Angseth lifted her rifle, returning the salute. She lifted her left hand and made a circle with her thumb and forefinger, giving the universal gesture for "OK."

Aran nodded, and turned. Angseth watched dumbstruck as Aran proceeded to jump into the air, and turn into a ball of spinning fire. Using some unknown mechanism, Aran's body then self-propelled across the wide expanse of canyon to a cave on the other side.

Vera's jaw dropped open when she witnessed the stream of fire spin over her head. No wonder she had been having so much trouble tracking the Hunter! How many more pieces of technology did Aran have? Words failed her. Instead Angseth leaned against the rock, studying the cave that Aran had disappeared into. Should she follow? There would be more dangerous creatures there, more ammo, new experiences.

Yes. She would follow. She would Aran to her death if need be.

Angseth took a deep breath and pulled herself to her feet, a scream ripping from her throat. Her knees and back screamed with her as she stood. First she needed to return to the area where she had seen the Pirates with the jet packs.

She would need a new one.

…Maybe some new stimulants too.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Angseth had never been to Tallon IV. She had read about the planet, seen video feed, and even spoken to a few individuals who were still allowed to walk on its surface. She had still been a Cadet when she first heard about Aran's exploits on that planet. She had listened with wide eyes and an open heart about the defeat of the Gamma Fleet Pirates and the discovery of previously unknown Chozo ruins. If Angseth looked back though her old log books, she would probably find the original audio file of the story as it had been told to her so many years ago.

According to what little she could afford to access of the Confederation data banks, Tallon IV was a class M planet, with a perfectly breathable atmosphere, high mountains, vast fertile plains, green life-giving forests, and more radiation than would be considered safe for any known species. Research into the Chozo ruins had made it easier to identify the radiation and had been one of the many tasty nuggets of information Aran had brought back with her after dealing with the Gamma Fleet. The pirates had been using it in all manner of illegal experiments, with ghastly results. One of which had been the dead Omega Pirate she had encountered with her troops back on the Seattle.

Phazon was a relatively new contaminant. It had been first documented over one hundred years ago by a research team that had been searching for new minerals to mine in the Outer Reaches. Phazon, it was discovered, could exsist in all common forms of matter, as a liquid, a solid and as a gas. All forms were equally deadly. Preliminary tests revealed it to be a highly radioactive substance that emited ionising radiation. This radiation proved to be so strong that it could dissolve unprotected organic matter at an alarmingly rapid pace. Research conducted on living subjects indicated that it contained highly mutative qualites as well. The mutations were often very painful, and ultimatly caused long and agonizing deaths. This information came curtesy of Rovien, and the experiments were soon discontinued. The scientists researching the substance then mysteriously went into hiding.

An asteroid roughly the size of a small battle cruiser and made mostly of Phazon slammed into Tallon IV long ago. Exactly how long ago, Confederation records did not have recorded. The Chozo were very protective of any relevant information. The resulting dust cloud scattered radiation particles over the vast majority of the planet, turning this once perfectly habitable world into a disaster not seen since "Love Canal" on Earth. The Chozo, who tried to clean up this mess, ultimately abandoned Tallon IV, leaving all their possessions behind. Tallon IV had since been deemed too toxic to be used for any further colonization, yet the planet was too much of an asset to simply destroy. So there the Phazon radiation stayed, poisoning the planets core and subsequently the creatures living on its surface.

Angseth knew that journeying to Tallon IV would be dangerous. If the Chozo, one of the most advanced races in the universe, decided that a radiation mess was too much for _them_ to clean up, then it was a _Big Problem_.

She guided her fighter in stealth mode past the markers and satellites that warned anyone of sound mind and body to turn back now, or face purple poison death. Angseth felt the urge to pause and perhaps rethink her actions, but ultimately curiosity drove her forward. Clersk had done a fantastic job on her fighter. The old bird now had more pick up and go than it had when it was new. There were still a few bugs, but nothing that would stop her ship from functioning.

Angseth guided her fighter into a gentler planet fall than the slamming she had taken on FQ3-59. Her sensors lit up, relaying back preliminary scans of the surface and air, telling her which were the more dangerous areas, and should be avoided. She didn't intend on staying long, Vera just needed enough time to grab a sample of Chozo scripture and run it through her basic universal language program to read the file that Aran had given her.

_ That thing wasn't Aran._

She shook the thought away. It stood to reason that if she truly felt the squirming writhing thing wasn't Aran, then perhaps she should never have come here.

Flames licked at the windows around her before blue sky and clouds began to show through. The light tan earth of Tallon IV spread below her, stretching beyond white puffy clouds. Even from this height, Angseth could see the tallest point on Tallon IV, a volcano that extended clear to the stratosphere. It had been created when floating Chozo cities had crashed to the planets surface in an effort to stem the flow of Phazon coming from the impact crater. Phazon readings were the highest in that area, and not even the shields and Aura on her fighter would keep that radiation out. Angseth and her borrowed power suit would not be going there.

Jones' suit actually fit quite well. The chest was a little roomy, which Angseth didn't mind. Breathing room was always a plus. Her cybernetic leg was a little pressed for space, but other wise worked and behaved well when snug inside a power suit. Comfort to be had all around.

The most ideal location to acquire a Chozo artifact would be the impact crater, but Angseth had already ruled against venturing in that direction. Where else could there be Chozo Ruins that weren't drenched in Phazon?

Angseth pulled up a map, scanning areas of relatively low-level radiation, and cross-referencing with known ruins. She then had a hit.

"Phendrana drifts," Angseth said softly. She pulled up a few more maps to get a precise location on the ruins. She switched over to autopilot, allowing the ships computer to guide her down to the planets surface. She reviewed her maps, then looked up as her radar emitted a beep.

"Who else is here?" She leaned forward, devoting her full attention to her radar. It listed the blip as an unknown vessel. That did little to put Angseth's mind at ease. Was it a Chozo policing vessel? Perhaps a Confederation ship?

She soon learned that it was none of the above. After a moment her ships computer confirmed that it was a small Pirate scout vessel. Angseth smirked. "After more Phazon are we? Didn't you guys give up on that stuff fifteen years ago?" She mused. Even though she had equipped her fighter with all the stealth-enhancing programs and designs available, she still felt exposed. With any amount of luck she could avoid a potential run-in with the pirates.

The ships computer corrected her heading toward the Phendrana drifts. Angseth kept an eye on that blip on her radar until it slid from view. If they had seen her they weren't ready to pick a fight. Angseth was ready to ignore them if they were equally as willing to ignore her. Literally two ships passing in the night.

Tinting fell over her cockpit window and view screens as the fighter approached the vast sheet of blue and white known as Phendrana Drift.

The mountain range was one of the largest and most severe of any habitable planet in the Confederation. At one time this mountain peak outside Angseth's window had been the highest point on Tallon IV, Samus Aran had changed that well over twenty years ago. The eastern slope of the mountain descended toward the earth at a steep 45 degree angle covered by a sheet of ice almost a mile and half thick in some areas. The glacier had been known as Phendrana. The Phendrana Drifts were the areas of broken ice at the base of the mountain, creating caves, deep crevices, and other pockets of life the Chozo used to build their cities and temples in and around. Fresh water that came from the melting glacier fed nearby frozen lakes and arctic seas at the mountain base.

Scans revealed tolerable amounts of Phazon in the area, and she would be safe as long as she didn't spend too much time outside her of ship; no more than twenty-four hours exposure to the elements. Angseth began to suit up once more, pulling on pieces of armor bearing Jones' name in Standard, and stripes of Private rank on the shoulders and arms of her suit. She smiled despite herself. The last time she wore stripes of this nature had been a whole other adventure in her life.

The fighter began its decent toward Phendrana as Angseth clicked the last chunk of armor in place. Tucked away in one of the bottom compartments of the craft, she had snow and ice gear stowed. The gear had been for use with her other power suit, but would also fit Jones' suit. She snapped the snow spikes in place, and then activated the main battery cells. The suit then pressurized and calibrated to her body. Angseth took control of the steering bar, and slightly altered the ships course. The temples were not visible from the air and she would need to enter the ice caves to find an access route to them. She would also need to find a safe place to hide her craft. Hopefully one of the ice caves would serve as a temporary hangar for her short stay.

Angseth guided her craft through blue valleys and cracks in the ice, until she came upon a flat plain with an ice cavern at one end. The cavern was almost ideal. The fighter would remain hidden, but she would still need to be stealthy. She circled around once, checking the interior of the cave, which she found to be smooth, and without much of an incline.

"Perfect, I can land and take off easily from there," Angseth said aloud. She then shook her head. No, no more talking to herself, once she started she knew it would become hard to stop. Everyone had their own ways of dealing with the inevitable solitary duty; Angseth's tactic was to make friends with that little voice in the back of her head.

Her fighter fit snugly in the cave, the wings and other extremities had least two meters worth of clearance on either side and above. Outside the entrance of the cave the plain extended for almost three miles before it began to slope. The slope then ended in a system of ice caves. Angseth would navigate the caves until she found the ruins. She was curious to see how these ruins held up to the elemental abuse they received on a daily basis.

The ships canopy hissed open, and the first thing that Angseth noticed was the intense cold. She could feel it seeping in subtly through the armor. For the first time she began to have doubts that Jones' armor may not stand up to weather this intense. It had all the standard equipment, which in theory meant that it could withstand extreme temperature. Yet practical use and theory were often two different circumstances.

Her feet hit the packed snow, and immediately the heating coils went to work. Angseth searched the HUD for the power suits features, and found the option that allowed for temperature manipulation. She changed the controls from "auto" to "manual" and closed the window. Moving around would be more than enough to keep her warm, with insulation this heavy around her skin. The internal heating system of the power suit would draw too much on the battery life. The heating coils faded, keeping her body temperature regular. Angseth reached inside the fighter and pulled out Jones' power rifle. She hated the newer designs. It fit over her dominant arm, blocking her right hand from any use. Why, oh why couldn't Jones have been right-handed? Then she could have the cannon mounted on her left arm instead of her dominant arm. Angseth was ambidextrous when it came to fire arms. However further scrutiny of the mini-cannon revealed one saving grace. By sliding and moving a few panels, she could easily transform the unit from an arm-mounted mini cannon into a short-range rifle. For the moment she would keep it as an arm-mounted unit.

Distance in the snow could be deceiving. Before stepping out of the cave, Angseth lowered the blast visor on her helmet to block the glare of the sun off the surface of the snow. She checked her ammo supply to find ten full clips along with a pleasant surprise. Ten Sticky Mines. The mines were small flat disks, with a gel-like substance on one side. This gel would stick to almost any surface. Once the mines were placed, she would move a safe distance away, and then use a laser sight on the gun to detonate the mine. The mine could be set for use with different laser frequencies. Angseth also had the standard issue of plasma pellets, and good ol' standard slugs.

Vera took a deep breath, then stretched, extending her arms above her head. Once she felt limber enough, she began to run. The gravity on Tallon IV was light compared to that on the Mabus, allowing Angseth to travel greater distances with each step. There was still resistance, but not as much. All things considered, running through the snow on Tallon IV was a nice enough way to start her day. It had been a while since she had gone for a pleasant run on the surface of a world. Through her HUD she could see the entrance to one of the many caves that had either been melted or chiseled away from the glacier. As she neared, she became reluctant to enter the caves for fear of becoming lost in a labyrinth of ice and snow. Angseth began to wish that she had some extra troops with her to conduct a safer exploration of the caves but it was too late for that now.

She enjoyed the run, and slowed as she came to the caves. Three miles had passed behind her easily.

_ I guess that's not too bad for forty-three years._

Vera lifted her left hand to her helmet and pressed a small panel on the side. Different choices highlighted on her HUD, and she scrolled down to the GPS function, then checked her location against a map she had on file. The ruins were just ahead of her, past the ice caves and whatever maze contained within. She sifted through the maps, searching for some kind of clue for safer passage. There were two visible paths before her: the cave to her left, and the cave to her right. Her maps offered no help as to the correct choice. For the third time she referenced her GPS, then ultimately chose the cave on her right.

Almost immediately, she was greeted with new choices. Angseth stood in place then used the coordinates of this position to mark a place on her GPS. This digital beacon would serve as a trail marker of sorts on her way back.

Angseth chose the left path this time, at each turn leaving another digital marker on her GPS.

_ Wish me luck Briar._

* * *

Hours had passed, and Angseth was still trekking through the caves. It wouldn't be such a chore if she didn't need to backtrack so many times. Her GPS was keeping fantastic track of all the caves she had explored thus far, and she had been over the ground so many times she almost didn't need to continue stopping to create digital markers. There had been the occasional critter, mainly cave dwellers and the random creature that had become lost in the caves while in pursuit of prey.

Angseth had been tempted for some time to turn back and hop in her ship, then continue by air to the temples-all elements of stealth be damned. She rounded another corner, and then used her grapple beam to pull herself up onto another ledge. She stood and looked out over the cavern before her, wondering if this hall-like cave would be the right choice. Vera turned her back on the cavern, and examined the hall she had just discovered.

_ You know Vera, you could find the temples just as easily if you just climb back into your nice warm ship and get airborne-wait, that isn't ice down there…_

She paused, looking up the long corridor at a vague shape. Instinctively, she held the mini cannon at the ready and slowly crept up the hall. There was unnatural, greenish light up ahead. Angseth didn't want to run into anyone else here. For the past few hours she had been undisturbed and hoped it would remain that way. She kept close to the wall, initiating the whole spectrum of scans that Jones had equipped in his armor. Angseth, technically speaking, was currently trespassing on Chozo territory. If they found her here they had all rights to do what they pleased with her.

Her scans revealed nothing alive. Instead the form had been a construct of light and shadows. Angseth chided herself for becoming so anxious; yet felt that her caution had been justified. She had spotted a space pirate scout vessel earlier. It stood to reason that Pirates were at least lurking. Vera leaned against the wall and paused until she calmed. She needed to keep a clear head and stop jumping at every last little noise and shadow.

The hall ahead contained a slight bend due to another hall merging into it. Angseth took in a last deep breath and ran for the merging hall. She quickly closed the distance then rounded the corner. Once again she paused, marking the location in her GPS. The green glow was still present, yet not one blip on her radar. The light reflected off the ice-coated walls of the cave bathing everything in the same flat green hue. Her GPS indicated that the ruins were just ahead. Could the green light be radiating from the ruins? If that was the case, then it was possible that the Phazon radiation had already penetrated too deeply. None of her sensors were picking up any unusual readings however. Only the amounts of radiation that would normally be found in the environment. Angseth kept her mini cannon at the ready as she started back up the path. The icy floor soon wore away and Angseth looked down to study the new terrain.

Her feet rested on paving stones, large smooth rocks that had been cut and placed together to create a road or path. This particular passage seemed to follow the path of stones and led closer to the green light. The cave began to open, gradually exposing a larger chamber. Angseth cautiously covered the last few yards then paused. All around her were the unidentified light sources.

Angseth giggled, then lowered the mini cannon. The floor of the temple was covered in bioluminescent plant life. Small fern-like plants with broad leaves with glowing green veins. The stems of the plants shone brighter than any emergency glow stick the Confederation could issue. The light from these plants illuminated the high ceiling of the temple, which was held aloft by large columns carved to appear like giant Chozo statues holding the beams in place.

The GPS stated that she was still 100 yards off from her target. Angseth stepped into the large room; the plants brushed her armor as she moved toward the center. "It must be another chamber off the main corridor. I wish I had more time to explore, I've wasted enough time as is." As she moved through the temple she noticed small streams of melting glacier water winding their way through cracks in the paving stones. Readings revealed that the air was slightly warmer in here. Perhaps the rise in temperature was some leftover Chozo technology, or maybe even a side effect of Phazon radiation.

Curiosity finally got the better of Vera, and she reached out for one of the plants. The leaf broke under her fingers, spreading green bioluminescent gel over the finger pads of her armor. She dropped the leaf. It was never a good idea to take plant samples without the proper equipment. Angseth continued on her way to the opposite end of the chamber and toward what she perceived was a door.

As she grew closer, Angseth learned that it was in fact not a door, but a large portal-like wall carving. No Chozo script adorned this piece of sculpture either. Even if there had been script in here she still couldn't use it as a translation piece.

Angseth supposed that if worse came to worse she had enough ammo to blast her way out of the room, but the Chozo had long been masters of resident localized psyonics, and Vera had no desire to piss off Chozo ghosts. Reports and rumors had given her the impression that the things were quite nasty.

She moved once more to the center of the room, and began scanning the walls with as many filters and thermal scans that Jones had equipped in his suit, plus a few more that she had downloaded from the main computer on her fighter. When the scans came up negative, she checked the maps she had of the area, both of her own explorations, and previous expeditions on the surface of Tallon IV, Phendrana Drifts. As far as she could tell, this chamber had been previously unexplored, or had been undocumented in the Confederation archives.

Vera paced the room, running her hands over the walls, the carvings, hell; even the damn glowing plants were suspect at this point. Anything could possibly trigger a doorway to open. After making two entire circuits of the room, Angseth suddenly paused, looking down. A small rectangular opening roughly thigh-high had been embedded in the wall about a yard before her. She felt her eyebrow twitch, another nervous gesture she had picked up in basic training.

She had memories of chasing down Aran on Aether. Aran had the unique ability to assume an alternate form of a golden colored sphere called a Morph Ball. She used this alternate form to access other areas through small cracks that she would normally have been too big or too cumbersome to navigate in her armor. Angseth had chased Aran in her Morph Ball form through many tunnels and cracks. Angseth did not posses a Morph Ball form, nor did she know what she would do with it if she had one. Angseth remembered that Aran in her suit had been tall, six feet and five inches easily. Angseth stood a grand total of five foot four inches, five nine in a power suit. Aran could roll away at decent speeds in her Morph Ball form while Angseth had been on hands and knees trying to catch up.

Angseth disconnected the mini cannon from her arm, and slung it to her back. She then dropped to her knees and marked her position on the GPS at the entrance of the tunnel. Vera leaned forward on her hands, feeling her weight and that of Jones' armor settle on her wrists and palms. Her back and hips popped, reminding her that she was probably too old to be on hands and knees like this. She then began to crawl, her body slipped into familiar rhythm.

_Maybe that's why the Chozo invented the Morph Ball, so they would never forget what it like to be a child._

Something skittered ahead of her in the dark. Angseth suddenly dropped to her stomach and slung the cannon off her back. She turned her night vision on and looked in that direction. Small spiky creatures bounced and rolled away down the tunnel.

_That's right, get out of the way little guys, I don't want to hurt you._

Vera crawled on her stomach until the critters cleared out. As she pushed herself back up on hands and knees, she slung the cannon to her back again.

_ It's probably a good thing that I'm planning to retire after all of this. Maybe the tribunal will be a little nicer to me when I'm court marshaled._

The passageway twisted and turned a few times before leading Angseth into a large room this one more familiar and colder than the one she had left. This room she recognized from the files she had reviewed earlier. The ceiling was even higher in here, the walls had been white at one point before twenty plus years of dirt, grime, and non-use had taken over. Moonlight reflecting from the glaciers outside cast light blue afterglow that drove the shadows back.

Angseth pulled herself out of the tunnel and into the white-gray hall. Columns lined the hall on either side, with statues of Chozo scholars placed between them. Erie did not quite cover the feel of the place. Not one sound or minor vibration had been present to break the stillness. The only thing that moved in here had been sun or moonlight as it carved a path across the floor. Not even the occasional snowflake could survive in this hall. Vera's footsteps echoed as she crossed the floor and stood at the base of the largest statue in the room.

The statue was that of a Chozo scholar. Angseth couldn't tell which one. She paused, tilting her head up to admire the statue. The Scholar held what seemed to be a bowl or plate aloft. Vera stepped closer to get a better look, and felt an irregularity in the floor. After a moment, she looked down.

The floor at the base of statue had long ago frozen to ice. Preserved in the ice was a footprint slightly larger than Angseth's own. Angseth studied it for a moment, and then realization came over her.

Aran had been here, she had stood on this very spot and scanned the writing engraved on the stone before her. Angseth stepped back then raised her left hand to the side of her helmet. For a moment her fingers hovered over the switch for her scanner, and then her arm fell. All the positive emotion she had earlier while running left her in a flood. She suddenly felt very heavy, her arms like lead encased in iron.

_Samus Aran stood here._

Angseth's knees felt weak. She couldn't stop the flow of memories now. Her mind had locked them away as she had fled FQ3-59.

"But it wasn't Samus in that cryo-tube!" Angseth shook her head, but was no longer able to deny it. Her knees suddenly gave out, and Vera hit the floor, catching herself on her hands. "It wasn't her! It wasn't! I don't know what that thing was but it wasn't her!" She shouted to all the Chozo statues around her. They gazed solemnly down, each clutching a symbol of virtue in their claw-like hands.

Aran _had_ been the one in the cryo-tube. She had known it all along; in the depths of Vera's soul she had known it, yet she continued to deny it. Aran had asked her for help, in the only way she could. Angseth had seen the only display of weakness she had known from Aran, and then she had run. She had screamed like a child, and fled from the boogieman in the closet.

"Oh goddess, she had asked me for help, and I…I just turned and fled, I just turned and then denied what I had seen," Angseth began to babble. For the first time since leaving the Mabus, Angseth felt the entire gravity of the situation fall on her conscience. She had left her crew, abandoned her post, and left the love of her life in charge of her mess while she chased down a shadow. And when it all seemed to be justifiable she had fled from someone near and dear to her in their hour of need.

_What has happened to her? What has happened to Aran? Why did it happen to her? —And I just left her! I just left her and ran away!_

Angseth began to feel tears pull at her eyes, her head tilted forward and she watched small droplets begin to form on the inside of her visor. She leaned forward and felt her helmet rest on the base of the statue. Angseth studied the footprint through her tears, each ripple and line clearly etched in her mind.

_Samus Aran is left-handed._

_What makes you say that Private Angseth?_

_I mean, think about it, if that Power Cannon is on her right arm, then she would need to use her left to access computer terminals._

_The Power Cannon acts as a universal conduit._

_What if there isn't an I/O port? The Power Cannon has no dexterity!_

_Look Private, I have argued with you about fictitious heroes long enough, just please, for the sake of the rest of the crew, keep your fantasies down to a dull roar._

_Whatever, Crany._

Angseth stared at the footprint until the shakes and tears faded. Everything had overwhelmed her. She needed to get back to her ship, to her crew and to those that counted on her to guide them through whatever trouble the universe could throw at them. Why had she done something so childish as chasing Aran clear across the universe? Did she hold Thomas and Svenson in that high regard? No. Truthfully she trusted them as far as she could throw a star cruiser.

_Aran, I have followed in your footsteps, stumbling to remain in your shadow. Due to my recent actions, I deserve to hang up my Captain's bars and accept whatever fate I have coming to me. I owe you my life. You not only saved me from death but set an example that I have always strived to follow. You helped to shape the world I live in and given me hope and dreams to follow. With your actions you taught me loyalty and respect, you taught me appreciation for all races and cultures. Even now you're teaching me a valuable lesson. To always fight and strive for the greater good, it doesn't matter if I must risk my own life for it. _Angseth studied the inscription. She couldn't read what it said, but for the moment it served as something better to rest her eyes on than her own tears._ I don't know what has happened to you, but I promise to set things right, I will find you._

Vera remained stationary for a moment. Already she had spent too much time on the surface of this world. Once she arrived back at the Mabus she would need to go through some major detoxification procedures. Yet she didn't want to get up just yet. This moment had been too long in coming. Perhaps it had been all the distractions of her position that had prevented her from thinking this situation through more clearly. She had done some very stupid things in the past week, and currently she didn't know which was the stupider choice, leaving her crew, or leaving Aran.

The hall was still quiet, but it didn't seem as eerie anymore. It was silent, peaceful, more like a chapel. Her HUD beeped, indicating both her current power level in the armor, as well as a confirmation of a full scan of the script before her. Angseth regained her feet, feeling simultaneously silly and relived. Those emotions would fade, and what happened here would stay here. She now had a goal, the path she needed to take was clear to her. First she needed to get back to the Mabus, then call Admiral Mizzen and relay the information she had gathered to him. She would also need to give him the full copy of the file Aran had given her. He would have more resources than she currently did. Once Admiral Mizzen became involved she could pull the Mabus away from this bogus mission to SR3-88 and then use every resource at her disposal to get Aran back. Aran was a highly decorated Bounty Hunter and the Confederation owed her for this insult.

Angseth was just another cog in this great machine, but it had always been her opinion that the squeaky wheel got the grease.

* * *

Vera kept her gait steady as she ran through the temple, and toward the ice caves. It had been a while since she could cut loose and just run for the sake of running. She had a treadmill in her quarters aboard the Mabus, but running on a treadmill and running over ground were completely different. Ground tended to be uneven and required subconscious adjustments to cover terrain. A treadmill is a smooth surface, and felt more like creative skipping than running.

Angseth checked her GPS on her way out of the temple. The caves were ethereal in the darkness. Everything seemed to be either black or outlined in vague traces of moonlight. Minerals trapped in the ice flickered in her passing light like fireflies. The map in her HUD led her through the caves with a small margin of error. The glacier was still slipping, moving, albeit slowly. Her coordinates were now slightly off, and some tunnels that she had taken previously had been blocked by falling ice or swept away completely.

Her radar suddenly blipped.

Vera stopped running, and moved for cover, pulling the mini cannon from her back. The blip had been close. She locked the mini cannon onto her forearm, and held it at the ready. She killed all of the external lighting on her suit and began searching through different visual filters for her night vision. After a moment Angseth was able to make out the walls and darker corners of the ice tunnel. Ahead of her she could see another turn, and a solid wall of ice that she guessed had been about twenty inches thick. The blip faded off her radar. It didn't just leave her radar, it vanished completely.

She remembered that pirate scout ship earlier. Had they come here in search of her? Or was this just a chance meeting?

After a long tense moment Angseth stood and began to move through the cave toward the bend. If she could get out in the open she could summon her ship for support, but the entrance of the caves was still a good two miles ahead of her. The blip hadn't returned, and Vera was prepared to write it off as just another lost critter in the caves. Perhaps the extreme temperatures and construction of the ice caves was throwing off the mid-grade scanners that came equipped on Jones' suit. Since the caves were constantly shifting, all she had to go on were the GPS coordinates. After the bend, there should be a shorter hall, and then a larger open cavern.

As she rounded the corner, Angseth halted abruptly. The shorter hall had crumbled, expanding the cavern. Snow and ice had fallen from the roof and piled on the floor. Her radar indicated no other living things in the area, and after a cursory scan Angseth began to run across the cavern. In just a few steps she settled into her mile-eating gait. She ran up one of the piles of snow and readied herself to jump down the other side.

It had always been in Angseth's experience that unless one had been fighting in zero gravity, it was almost impossible to alter trajectory once your feet had left the ground. Angseth's feet had left the packed snow of the mound, and both in the corner of her eye and dead center of her radar, she spotted her blip again. At the moment she couldn't make out much, just what appeared to be a glowing yellow spike thrust up at her airborne body. Angseth suddenly activated her jet pack, and spun. She could feel the spike scrape against the side of her armored leg, but it did no damage, not yet. The sudden activation of her thrusters caused her to loose all control of her decent. She spun in the air, then slammed into the packed snow, her right shoulder taking the brunt of her fall. Her arm became numb and gradually sensation returned.

Angseth quickly rolled and gained her feet to face her attacker. They still remained stationary behind the pile of snow, but now Vera had a clearer vantage point. Even though she now had visual confirmation, It still didn't show up on the radar. The glowing yellow spike she could see now was actually a beam saber coming from its right wrist. It moved, standing up to its full height and fully exposing itself to Angseth's line of sight. Angseth remained steady, not sure of exactly when she had pulled the mini cannon from her back, but it had already been mounted to her right arm.

Her attacker was humanoid, wearing flat gray armor that looked as if it had seen many battles. She couldn't quite pin one central point of origin in the armor's construction. Its helmet was a bit on the small side, with one large yellow face shield taking up almost half its total surface area. It walked upright, with human-like shaped feet and legs, narrow waist and large almost barrel chest. Its left arm had been fully plated with a round shoulder piece and heavily armored forearm. Its right arm had a straight shoulder plate, lighter bicep and forearm, with a generator for the beam saber. From the crown of its head a long tassel extended down its back. To Angseth he looked rough, definitely not military of any kind. Yet it disturbed her that even though she had visual confirmation, still nothing appeared on her radar and her scanners refused to acknowledge the presence of anything.

For a moment they stood, staring each other down. Angseth had no wish to get into a conflict with anyone. Everything about this person spoke to her of their tactics. Heavily armored left arm and lightly armored right arm meant that he was built for close combat with his beam saber. The left arm was used as a shield, the right was kept light to allow for more maneuverability of the beam saber. In a point and shoot world of battle tactics, Angseth could admire those that stuck to more traditional methods of battle.

Its stealth suddenly dropped. Angseth could see it fall away on her scanners as if it had been a shroud around him. Now her radar lit up. Before she had to be right on top of him for it to register. Not only did she receive a full scan, but information from her ship now poured in. He was fully cybernetic, with only brain and central nervous system still intact. There was no other body inside the suit. Aside from his beam saber, he was armed to the teeth. Her ship retrieved a few files and Angseth read them quickly. Her body began to tense, and she immediately became defensive.

Before her stood a bounty hunter that went by the name of Weavel. A pirate that had been injured to the point of death by Aran, and then became a cybernetic warrior. His beam saber was known as a Battlehammer. That information was enough to make Vera thank whatever gods were out there that she had managed to perform a mid-air dodge away from that weapon. The Battlehammer was a traditional close combat weapon that most of Gamma Fleet Pirates used. Reports had circulated that one of these Battlehammers had enough power to penetrate the hull of a battle cruiser when in the right hands. It would have torn through Jones standard issue armor as if it were made of tissue.

Angseth felt small, and very defenseless against this Bounty Hunter. More importantly, why was he here? Did he come here to find her, or something else? She spied the exit. Maybe she could outrun him. Vera lifted her foot, and paused. Her scanners indicated that the floor was highly unstable and less than five inches thick in places. This thin sheet of ice, in combination with the weight of the snow and two heavily armored individuals wouldn't stand up to much abuse. She needed to get out of here without first angering Weavel, and secondly, without causing the floor to cave in. She wasn't sure how deep the fissure was below them, but she was willing to bet that it wouldn't be an easy landing.

Vera slowly stood, and lowered her weapon. She then opened her com line. "I'm not here for you, and I'm sure you're not here to battle me. The floor in here, as you probably know, is unstable. Even if we were to battle, lets not do it here."

Weavel's head tilted as if he were contemplating her words. He then lowered his weapons and nodded once. Angseth breathed a sigh of relief, and began to study the floor, searching for any other areas that may be too weak to walk across.

_ I am so happy I didn't go through the floor when I landed._ Angseth took a step, for the moment Weavel was silent. Perhaps he was in the same predicament that she found herself in. How heavy was his cybernetic body anyway? She searched for another safe area, and shuffled toward the opposite exit. The exit was no more than a thin crack in the wall that hopefully still led to another system of more stable ice caves. For a moment she thought about asking Weavel if that was the way he came.

_ "You can't get out that way."_

Angseth heard the voice over her com, yet it didn't have a vocal quality, it was if it had been piped directly to her com line, almost computerized, yet still with emotion.

"I thought so. Do you know the way out?"

_ "No. I fell from up there,"_ Weavel pointed to the collapsed ceiling.

"Oh, so that's how that happened, then I guess I scared the crap out of you when I jumped."

"_If you had landed on this side, the whole floor would have caved in. I had to divert you somehow."_

Angseth stood her ground, feeling a little foolish. She would be stupid enough to think that just because she had an easy time of it the way in, that it would be the same the way out. It would have been hazardous if she had fallen through the floor. Then again, now that she thought on it, he had known how she would react all along. She spoke to Weavel again.

"Thank you, for helping me."

"_You are only a Private. A lone one at that…Jones?"_

Angseth balked, Private? Then she groaned. The suit. She was still in Jones' crappy standard issue suit. "Yeah…A Private." She spat.

"_I must admit I am curious as to why a Marine would be here alone. You don't look or act like a scout."_

"One could ask the same of a Bounty Hunter."

"_Touché."_

Angseth smirked despite herself. She turned her scanners to the collapsed roof. Large chunks of ice still hung precariously on the rim. "If one of those falls,"

"_Exactly."_

"Shit, and there is no way out back the I came either," Angseth began scanning the wall. "I need to get up there."

A targeting laser suddenly touched the side of her helmet.

"_If you start climbing as recklessly as you ran in here, then the rest will definitely cave in."_

"Please give me a little more credit than that. I admit I was in the wrong when I came in here, but I know what I'm doing."

"_I don't trust you."_

"I don't expect you to."

Angseth began scanning her maps again; seeking for any markers that she had made that hadn't been altered by the shift in the glacier. Weavel kept his gaze fixed on the opening above, and began moving slowly toward the crevice that Angseth had previously come from.

"_Do whatever your foolish head would like after I leave this cave."_

Angseth held still, the targeting laser never left her faceplate. If she moved, he would shoot. It was that easy to understand. Weavel took a few more steps toward the other entrance, when one of the blocks of ice overhead broke away and fell. Angseth jumped closer to the wall, and extended her snow spikes to their full length to drive into the wall. The floor gave under the weight of the falling block. Angseth scrambled to drive her spikes into the wall. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Weavel fall. It was only then that she noticed heavy damage on his back.

Angseth drove a final spike into the wall, then extended her grapple beam and felt it snag Weavel's leg. She kicked out and drove her feet into the wall, using all the power she could muster in her cybernetic limb to create an anchoring point. Snow and ice fell past her into the newly opened fissure below. After a moment the snow settled, leaving only powder-like mist floating around them. There was still weight on the other end of the line. The beam hadn't been disrupted. Angseth found herself bent over backward, her cybernetic leg anchored into another precarious section of ice. She looked down the line at Weavel's foot caught in the grapple beam.

"Are you okay?" She called over the com.

A pause then, _"I'm here."_

"I'm going to zip you up, hold tight," Angseth began to retract the grapple beam. The beam flickered and strained. "Shit,"

"_Just swing and toss me, I'll manage."_

Angseth searched the darkness past Weavel's foot. Her scanners relayed back information. The pit underneath them was definitely just that, a deep gaping maw extending into the earth. It wasn't bottomless, but was pretty close. "Bullshit, there's nowhere to land."

"_Drop me!"_

"No! The pit is too deep!"

Weavel paused, his arms outstretched, as if he were balancing in midair. _"Why did you grab me?"_

"Can't we talk about this later?" Angseth grunted.

"_Why?"_

"You stopped me from making a bad mistake, I'm grateful."

"_That's all?"_

"At the moment, you're not an enemy, so there is no reason I should let you die!"

Weavel grew quiet and still at the other end of the line.

She called into the com. "Divert 50 percent of power to the Grapple Beam."

Her suit compensated, and Angseth felt more strain from Weavel's weight on her leg. Fifty percent of the suits power was now in the grapple beam, and the rest was used to keep her suit functioning. Angseth began to retract the beam again and Weavel's body slowly rose toward her outstretched hand. When his body grew close she felt jarring on the line. Angseth froze as Weavel's torso twisted in half, and his upper body began crawling toward her, using his own legs as a makeshift ladder. His right hand closed over her left wrist, and he hoisted his upper torso over the span of the grapple beam. Angseth felt more stress on her leg as he began climbing up her body in much the same fashion.

Weavel's lower torso and legs then zipped straight up to Angseth's hand, allowing her to get a good grip.

"_Take my hand."_

Angseth looked up toward Weavel, who had anchored himself in another location, away from the block of snow where Angseth had entrenched herself. Weavel extended a hand toward her. Angseth exhaled sharply, then readjusted her grip on Weavel's legs. She then commenced to one of the most intense sit-ups she had ever attempted in her life. Weavel held his hand out as she slowly rose, Angseth grunted as she sat up, the power suit shuffled power around the muscle compensation mechanisms. She reached out and grabbed Weavel's hand. No sooner has his cybernetic hand closed over her wrist than the ice shelf below her began to crumble away. Angseth scrambled to kick the ice off her cybernetic leg before it could pull her down with it. The sudden gravity and weight pulled on her arm. She felt the burn and strain travel through her power suit, as well as along her shoulders and back. After a moment Angseth was left hanging, holding tightly to Weavel's wrist with her right hand, and holding Weavel's lower torso with her left, dangling over an icy abyss. She would be sore in the morning.

"_How are you holding up?"_

Angseth looked up at Weavel's face. Then it struck her that she could not see through his visor. "I'm good,"

Weavel began to pull her up toward the ice wall he had anchored himself to. Angseth reached outward and embedded one of her ice grips into the wall. Once she had a grip, Weavel let go.

"_We're even now,"_ he said. _"You're on your own from here."_

"Thanks," Angseth held his legs out toward him, and Weavel took them back.

"_I hope I never find you on the wrong side of my Battlehammer, Jones."_

Angseth took in a breath. "My name isn't Jones. I had to borrow this suit."

"_Oh? Interesting surprise."_

"I am Captain Angseth, of the battle cruiser Mabus."

Weavel paused for a moment, and although Angseth couldn't hear him, she could swear that he was laughing under that unforgiving visor. _"Very well then…Captain."_

Angseth pulled herself into a more comfortable position then looked upward toward the open hole in the roof. Weavel lifted his legs and draped them around his shoulders, then began to crawl along the side of the ice wall, gradually looking for a way down. She began to climb, using her scanners a bit more liberally to identify weak points. After a few moments, she pulled herself over the rim and onto a flat plain covered in snow.

For a moment she rested, and ran a diagnostic on her suit. As she predicted, the compensation mechanisms in her right and left arms had been strained and were not operating up to full capacity. For someone who had been accustomed to lower gravity, this could have been a problem, but since she had been accustomed to higher gravity for most of her life, it wouldn't hinder her as much. On the other hand, she hadn't lost any weapons during her climb, and had cut her time in half to reach her ship.

She sat up and scanned the snow below her. The hole behind her seemed to be the only weak point in this plain. Using her GPS she could trace her way back to her ship without navigating the caves. In retrospect, perhaps her chance meeting with Weavel had been very fortunate. Angseth made it a point not to deal with too many bounty hunters. Most of the time she had no use for them, and if there was something that a fully stocked battle cruiser couldn't handle, then she doubted a one-man army could.

Unless the hunter was Samus Aran.

Angseth began running again, still keeping a decent pace, yet using her scanners to their fullest. Night had fallen hours ago. The sky was immense, dark purple with tiny pinpoints of light from the stars. Tallon IV's moons seemed to be large glowing orbs in the sky. Moon and starlight reflected off the snow and ice creating a very serene effect on her visor. Angseth sighed contently. It was a cold night for a jog, but at least she felt up to it. She turned off most of the functions of her HUD, preferring to travel by light of the twin moons. Her GPS would beep and tick if she started on the wrong heading. The thing she did watch however had been the temperature. Since the sun had set, her HUD read that the temperature had dropped dramatically. She could not survive outside this suit, or even outside her fighter in conditions like this. If she so much as pulled off her helmet, she would die in a matter of minutes.

She kept her pace, following the ticks and beeps from her computer. The terrain was familiar, and her ship was less than two miles away. Now the flat expanse of snow gave way to wind blown hills. Angseth cleared the first snowy rise, and paused. The terrain had changed. The rolling dunes were still present, however dotting the landscape in several places were clusters of ice crystals, sprouting up from the snow like grass. Angseth came to a full stop and activated her full range of scanners.

She stood on the rise, looking out over the snow. Perhaps the wind had carried enough snow away to uncover part of the ice caves beneath. The cave where she had stored her ship could be seen in the distance. Between herself and the cave, she counted three clusters of icicles. Her scanners picked up nothing unusual, yet the clusters of ice crystals seemed out of place somehow.

_If I go around them, then I could lose my heading,_

She held the mini-cannon at the ready and resumed her pace. If the ice crystals were dangerous, Angseth felt safe in the common knowledge that it was often harder to hit a moving target. She had passed one of the ice clusters, leaving approximately twenty feet of distance between herself and it. Suddenly, her foot sank into the snow up to her knee. Angseth tripped, hyper-extending her cybernetic leg. She lay still for a moment, biting back the pain from her joints and fading adrenaline rush.

Something in the air had changed. For a moment Angseth lay searching her surroundings, then slowly pulled herself to a sitting position.

The ice clusters had vanished.

"Oh shit," Angseth reached for her mini-cannon, frantically searching the snow in the immediate area. The damn thing had slipped from her back.

She almost missed it. At first she thought that perhaps she had overreacted, maybe she just didn't see the crystals before. No, the ice crystals had returned, however the ice crystal had now sprouted a pair of legs. Long, thick legs that ended in a bean-shaped body. Angseth began to realize these were not ice clusters anymore, but living creatures, BIG living creatures.

"Sheegoth," Angseth breathed.

The Sheegoth stood fully, and shook the remainder of the snow from its body, then turned to face Angseth. She remained frozen when two more Sheegoth rose from the ground at either side of her. Angseth found herself staring into four opal-like eyes and below them, rows of very healthy teeth. The Sheegoth roared, and took a step toward Angseth. The two on either side also began to charge.

Vera pulled her mini-cannon close, and then tucked and rolled away from their charge. She narrowly avoided one pair of feet, but was unable to dodge the other two Sheegoth. Vera screamed aloud as one lowered its horns rammed her in the side, rolling her across the snow. The third stomped one massive foot, crushing her cybernetic leg.

Angseth gasped as she felt her leg bend and snap. The break caused stress on what had been left of her femur, causing immense pain in her hip. Shock washed over her when she realized what caused the pain.

_The pins. The support pins for my cybernetic leg have been bent!_

Vera felt her body hit the snow once more. The three Sheegoth were about to stomp her again. That was how they worked, as a pack. One would tackle, and the other two would stomp their prey.

_Move! Move or die Mervera!_

Angseth tucked her knees into her chest and rolled between the legs of the charging Sheegoth. Immediately her hip and remains of her leg protested. Standing would not be an option, however her new location provided an opportunity. The Sheegoth's back was now toward her, leaving its vulnerable point exposed.

Angseth let loose with a burst from the mini-cannon. A few of the ice crystals fell away and exposed unprotected soft pink flesh. The Sheegoth turned with a roar; it's pack mates were already closing in.

_I can't keep up this pace!_

Angseth grabbed one of the sticky mines, and tossed it high into the air. As predicted, the mine arched and attached to the back of the Sheegoth on her left. Once again she was slammed and rolled. She tucked her arms and legs to her chest to minimize the impact. Once again snow and ice covered her visor. She shook the snow loose, and reached for another sticky mine. The Sheegoth on her right lowered its horns, charged, and scooped Angseth off the snow. Angseth had time to place another sticky mine before the Sheegoth tossed her body into the air.

Vera was momentary stunned from the impact, but felt her heart stop when she realized that she had been tossed over seven yards above the ground.

_Oh this is going to hurt…_

Angseth used what little energy she had left in her power suits thrusters to maneuver her body to land on the Sheegoth's back. As she fell, She let off a few bursts, destroying the ice shell upon it's back. The ice crystals fell, and her body landed not a moment later. Almost immediately she felt a snap deep within her hip. She simultaneously screamed and fired at the soft flesh, exposing its internal organs. The Sheegoth bucked, roaring in pain. Angseth tumbled from the creatures back and hit the snow again.

The other two Sheegoth parted, making way for their pack mate. Angseth rolled to a position on all fours. It felt as if her entire right side of her body were on fire. She narrowed her gaze at the Sheegoth. The old familiar rage came over her again. Fight or flight. The one gift and benefit of growing up on the Isrec mining rings. Angseth lifted the mini-cannon again, and aimed for the sticky mine on the back of the first Sheegoth. She fired, and the mine exploded sending ice crystals flying. The other Sheegoth that she had previously landed on stumbled a final time and gave one last roar. Angseth breathed deeply and rose to her knees. Her back then joined the chorus of pain that her hip and leg had been singing.

Vera was suddenly jerked backward. Her right arm went numb. Her feet left the ground, and Angseth was vaguely aware of her body getting tossed and shaken vigorously. It took a moment for her to gain her bearings and realize that the Sheegoth had grabbed her arm mid-bicep and had been shaking her. When Angseth felt her feet hit the ground again, she took aim and fired at the sticky mine on it's back.

Chunks of ice crystals hit the back of her head along with a hot blast. The Sheegoth ran for a few more yards, dragging Angseth before collapsing, its jaws still closed around her arm.

Stillness returned to the world. The moons still reflected off the snow, which were now covered in dark patches of blood. Angseth took in deep breath after deep breath. With tear-filled eyes she slowly took note of her situation.

The snow around her had been trampled and covered in gore. Her cybernetic leg lay in no fewer than five pieces. Plating from her power suit had broken off and lay scattered in the moonlight. Locked down on her arm was the Sheegoth. Its teeth had pierced her armor and skin. The adrenaline in her system blocked the pain for the moment.

Angseth let her head rock back. Adrenaline faded as cold icy air filled her lungs. The danger had gone for the moment, and all that had been left were three Sheegoth corpses, one at her side with jaws clamped down on her right arm. Her ship was still miles away across the frozen tundra, and a good amount of her own blood was seeping through the snow.

"Ok….think...think Vera," She said to herself before turning her full attention to the Sheegoth on her arm. Sensation had begun to return to what was left of her fingers. She lifted her left arm, and grabbed a tooth, then tried to push the Sheegoth's mouth open. It didn't give an inch.

Angseth readjusted her angle of approach, and tried pushing again. Still nothing.

"Dammit! I did not come all this way just to die stuck in the snow!"

She turned her head and studied the teeth. They hadn't completely closed, due to her arm pinned neatly between two of them. Another tooth had come down on her armor like a guillotine. Perhaps she could roll the Sheegoth on its side and use gravity to shift its mouth open. Vera vetoed this idea when she found it nearly impossible to brace either part of her body against the creature's side to push it over. Once again she was back to square one.

Her leg wasn't bleeding as badly as it could have been. Even though most of it had broken away, the connection pieces were still capping off the end above her knee. The air was colder now that dawn was near. Her blood flowed in a steady trickle down the side of the Sheegoth's chin and mist-like vapor came from the heat of the wound. With a grunt Angseth pulled her left leg closer, and removed a knife from a sheath on her calf. She didn't know what good a knife would do her when a point-blank shot with her mini-cannon didn't even so much as phase the creature before. Perhaps if she worried at it enough, she could cut the tooth away and pull her arm out. Her right arm contained the only means to remotely control her ship. She needed her arm, or most importantly, the electronics surrounding it.

Angseth lifted the knife with her left hand, and found a place to drive it in. As soon as the tough hide of the Sheegoth met the plasteel of her knife, the tip bent and chipped.

_I am not dieing this way!_ Angseth lifted the knife higher and began to drive it in deeper, causing chips and cracks to spread across the blade's silver surface. With one last blow, the knife shattered, leaving only a cracked hilt in Angseth's hand. For a moment she stared at it in disbelief. Knives of that nature didn't break easily and apparently neither did Sheegoth hide.

She tossed the broken knife away, and took in another deep breath of stale air. She scanned the ground, looking for something else that she could use to chip away at the carcass. Her gaze drifted back to her mangled arm. Oddly enough she could still feel her fingers. They were cold, and rested on something soft which Angseth guessed was the Sheegoth's tongue. Aside from minor sensation in her fingers, her arm was nothing more than a bloody mess that ended at her bicep.

Vera's searching paid off, her eyes rested on her rifle that had landed just a few feet away from the Sheegoth. She reached out with her left foot and drew it closer, feeling better once she had it near. Once again she desperately searched her surroundings for another solution to her problem. In the back of her mind was the realization that the longer she waited, the more likely rigor mortis would set in on the Sheegoth, further locking her arm in place. Nothing in her immediate grasp could help her break free.

_There must be some way I can get out of this!_

Her body began to grow colder, her muscles beginning to relax. Angseth knew that her body was in the early stages of shut down. She had felt her body near death before, had given up all hope for the sweet release of death. That had been long ago, on Aether. Now she fought against the coming dark. Her body was cold, yes, but she could still move and think.

_Will I allow my own death for the sake of my right arm?_

She examined the wound again. Her arm wasn't going anywhere, and as long as she was attached to it, she wasn't going anywhere either.

_Just settle down, it's not like you haven't lost a limb before._ Angseth pushed that morbid thought away, unaware of exactly where in the back of her mind it came from. But even though she had pushed it away, the practical application of that line of thinking hadn't eluded her. Even if she did manage to free herself, she would be badly wounded, and need immediate medical attention. She would die from blood loss if she weren't careful.

_I can either die from blood loss, or I can die from exposure while trapped with this dead Sheegoth._

Angseth then began to ponder what she would do after she had freed herself from the Sheegoth.

_That's an easy decision. Grab a sticky mine and blow the head off that creature, and pull out the com system to summon my ship._

That seemed to be a feasible plan, if a bit gory, but first she needed to part ways with her arm.

She glanced down at the remains of her cybernetic leg. Once again she pulled her good leg up toward her left arm, then began removing the remnants of her boot. The cold air barely affected her at this point. She knew that she had to get to her ship, and send out an SOS. She pulled away at the inner boot, until her bare foot had been exposed. It seemed almost unnaturally untouched compared to the rest of her body, clean, dark sienna skin, surrounded by worn and beaten metal. Angseth rested the mini cannon across her lap and began sliding panels to the side. She clicked the stock into place, and slid the trigger back toward the stock. Once the gun had been transformed, she turned it around until she looked down the barrel. Panic and fear began to rise up in her chest as she held the barrel a few inches away from her bicep.

_I need to do this. I need to survive or I'll never see Nevada again._

Vera also had to face the possibility that the flack would destroy her helmet in the process. She felt that it would be better to damage her helmet than her face.

It took a moment for Angseth to bite back her fear and tears as she slipped her toe through the trigger guard. All the gruesome details of the procedure went through her mind, all the little calculations she would need to make in order to pull this off correctly without causing any further damage to her body. She would need to measure the thickness of her arm almost blind, she would need to keep the gun steady, and hope that when she squeezed the trigger that she didn't alter the trajectory of the burst. She couldn't afford to miss her arm and hit her head instead.

She tightened her grip on the barrel of the gun, and then used the leverage to help pull the trigger with her near-frozen toe.

_Click._

At first she thought that the gun hadn't fired, she didn't feel any thing, no pain, not even the report from the gun. Then burning heat cut through her arm, ripping through her armor and bone. The tundra echoed her scream, more from fear than pain. Her hand burned from holding the barrel even through what had been left of her armor. Angseth felt her body lean to the left, then hit the bloody snow around her. She dropped the gun and held the stump of her right arm. Her HUD now dark, she could only see with what little light filtered through her visor. Telltale dark cracks spider-webbed from one corner. The flack had compromised the integrity of her helmet. Right now it was little more than something to keep the wind off her face. She let go of what remained her right arm and pulled the remains of her helmet from her head. The air was cold, and she almost pushed the helmet back on. It rolled off her head and hit the snow in two pieces. Vera returned her hand to the stump once more trying to stop the flow of blood. The pain finally kicked in along with shock that left her feeling cold and numb. Her sense of balance had also been affected by the sudden loss of weight on her right side. Both from her missing cybernetic leg, and now arm. Her thoughts turned toward her next task. In light of recent developments, freeing her other arm from the Sheegoth was out of the question. She could barely see clearly, let alone have the ability to aim and point the rifle with any kind of accuracy.

Missing both her right arm and leg, and unable to walk or even properly crawl, Angseth had never felt more alone and helpless, she had lost a lot of blood, the odds were against her and,

_Stop it right now Vera, you can make it! Stop panicking about the could-be and should-be! Get your ass moving and get your com system out of that Sheegoth!_

Angseth lifted her head, her vision clearing, everything became suddenly and surprisingly clear. She would need to push herself, survival was never easy, and if she were to survive she needed to push herself. She dropped her left arm from the stump then reached out for the mini-cannon and sticky mines. Her vision began to take on a blue tint around the edges. For a moment she pondered what the blue tinting could mean, perhaps it was some kind of odd reaction in her body due to the extreme cold and lack of blood. There was one thing she was sure of however, right now she had focus, she had gained intense focus and she needed to keep it. The more she focused, the more blue crept into her vision. Colors seemed to brighten, grow deeper. More important than that, she found new strength and no pain. Everything had gone numb. There was only her target, and the comforting blue outlining all objects in her line of sight.

_Alright bastard, give me back my arm!_ Angseth threw a sticky mine at the Sheegoth, and it landed right in the middle of its head. She scooted back through the blood and Sheegoth bits until she had reached a safe distance. Through the blue haze in her vision she aimed her targeting laser at the mine, then giggled at the resulting blast.

_Stop it Vera,_

But she couldn't stop giggling. Despite all her problems at the moment, from the frostbite on her toes and face, to her missing limbs, she felt damn good, as if she could do anything. Even as bits of Sheegoth rained down around her, Angseth skittered forward and climbed up on its carcass. The sticky mine didn't turn the entire creature to pulp as she had wished. Once again the beasts tough hide had won out over technology. The sticky mine had only succeeded in making a small dent in the Sheegoth's head. Angseth scrutinized the cranial cavity, and then with an almost inhuman roar, drove her hand deep inside, pulling and scooping brain and tissue out of the way until she reached the roof of the Sheegoth's mouth. With another punch, she broke through the fragile layer of cartilage, her fingers finding the com attached to her arm. More blue, more light. The colors and sudden burst of energy were addictive. Part of her recoiled in horror when she realized that she was _still_ giggling.

With one last forceful push, she drove her left hand inside, and grabbed the wrist of her no-longer-attached right arm. After asserting her grip, she then began to pull. The wrist bent, allowing part of the arm to travel up through the Sheegoth's head. Angseth let go, and took a grip on the wrist again, and began tugging. Working her arm back and forth until she pulled it through the hole in the crown of the Sheegoth. Now she no longer giggled, but outright laughed at the gruesome sight of a plated hand of a marine poking through the head of a dead Sheegoth. Fingers outspread, palm open, almost as if someone were trying to wave down a passerby.

Angseth stopped laughing long enough to focus her attention on the com. Whatever was happening gave her more energy than any stimulant, and whatever had overcome her had to potency of being downright illegal. Somehow with only her left hand—her weak hand—she managed to crack the armor as if were made of light grade plastic, she pulled the shards away, then rescued the com from her wrist. For a moment she studied her bent arm and wrist, and was satisfied. Her arm was stuck, here on Tallon IV, while she would soon leave.

Vera slid off the side of the Sheegoth, and hit the ground with more force than she had anticipated. Her right stump protested, but the pain faded when she ceased to focus on it. She lifted the com to her line of sight, then pressed the buttons in the proper sequence to summon her ship to her location. With that completed, she rested against the body of the Sheegoth. Her vision still swimming with blue light.

_If I had given up on Aether, I wouldn't be here to survive this new dilemma._ She mused.

The sun was finally rising. As the slow orange glow graced the horizon, her limbs began to grow heavy. She could feel her breath begin to grow shallower. Any moment now her ship would crest that final ridge, and she would set a course for the nearest Confederation base. To hell with the consequences.

At the edges of her vision, outlined in blue, she could see dark shadows moving in. They quickly glided over the snow, always staying at the corner of her vision. They didn't seem like ghosts or spirits, yet they always stayed off to the side, out of her line of sight. Angseth reached for her gun anyway.

_I'll be damned if I get taken out by anything other than an act of God at this point._

The figures came closer, never running, but not moving slowly either. They came at a steady pace, the sun bright behind them, light spreading over the snow. More disturbing to her was that the figures cast no shadows. They finally came close enough for Angseth to begin making out features, or to get ready to start shooting. She tried to lift her left arm, but the strength she possessed earlier had gone, yet the blue light at the edge of her vision stayed.

The creatures approaching her were tall, with thin legs and arms. They moved with smooth long strides, and wore power armor of some kind. Not military make, or at least not any design she could readily recognize. Ornate crests decorated the helmets. They didn't appear to have come from general infantry and the decoration looked more like Honor Guard of some kind. They came closer, lifting claw-like feet through the snow.

One knelt before Angseth. An inner mechanism in the helmet lifted the blast sheild enough so she could make out its facial features. Her back protested as she lifted her head slightly to get a better view. She looked into small, round, brown bird-like eyes, powerful beak, and brightly colored feathers. Angseth vaguely felt her head drop back as the creature lowered it's visor once more.

_The Chozo._

The blue intensified as the Chozo took a step backward, and seemed to communicate to the others that had closed in. They began walking away.

Angseth leaned forward and once again the energy surged through her. "Wait!" Her voice ripped through her throat. "Don't leave! Please help me!" Her throat began to burn. Vera was dimly aware of the taste of blood at the back of her throat. "Aran! Aran needs help!"

The Chozo paused as a group, looking back at her.

"Aran!" Angseth fought for her voice. "She was…captured! Please, Help!"

The blue light intensified, she could see a ship coming in, but not her own. This one was silent, and seemed to have been carved from one solid piece of metal. The Chozo now surrounded her, her body levitated from the snow. Angseth's weight seemed to settle at the center of her back. She cried out as the pins in her hip shifted once again. One of the Chozo troops looked back at her, visor lifted with pale green eyes regarding her. She looked past the Chozo toward the ship. They carried her inside, and the blue haze consumed her vision.

_If I die now, I'm really going to be pissed._


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9:**

"What a mess," a gruff voice announced to no one in particular. "What have we recovered thus far?" Mirson rubbed his forehead, and turned from a hologram displaying an image of the surface of FQ3-59. He took a moment to collect himself while Anderson, his assistant, stood at the side of his desk brushing dust from his uniform. "Report please."

"There were many injuries, but miraculously no deaths." Anderson paused a moment to peruse the information. His dark hands curled around the datapad, almost if this information was the last piece of driftwood in the ocean. Mirson had observed that Anderson liked to have a firm grip on things, both physically and otherwise. Wrinkles had formed in the man's brow after years of constant worry. Most of the other Admirals thought Mirson was uptight. Not many had the chance to see Anderson in full swing. Mirson liked men who were on top of their objectives, and this dark skinned human was the most effective organizational mind in the Seven Systems. "The drop ships are heavily damaged, and as you can see displayed on the holo, FQ3-59 has developed quite an impressive dust storm."

His head ached, yet once again Mirson turned back to his view screen to examine the many scans of the planet again. From a distance it seemed that the world had developed a bruise. Large gray-blue clouds smeared and spread across the planets surface. Outside his view window he could see lightning and other atmospherical phenomenon. "Did Aran do this before she had been apprehended?"

"We are not sure as to who caused this destruction, the warp signature in the atmosphere gave us our first clue as to the events that have taken place. However, by piecing together transmissions before the occurrences, we know that both Aran and Captain Angseth of the _Mabus_ had been apprehended. There is reason to believe that she caused this mess."

"Evidence?"

"Aran had been sealed in a stasis chamber the entire time. Captain Fredrick had Angseth in protective custody."

"So she had broken free?"

"Given her violent tendencies, questionable lineage, and the possibility of facing a tribunal, I would say yes."

Mirson took in a deep breath, and lifted his hand to rub his temple. "Damn this is a huge mess." He leaned back in his chair; the leather creaked and sagged under his weight. "Decided to go out in a blaze of glory did she?"

"One would think Admiral. There is no good reason why she shouldn't be smeared across the stars by now. No one has ever attempted a warp maneuver while still in a planets atmosphere, and with good reason."

"Instability, yes," Mirson took his hand from his temple and began to study the myriad of holo screens surrounding his desk, each bearing a report complete with video feed, still scans, and in-depth readings of the area.

_ "Admiral?" _ A voice came from a small speaker on his desk.

Mirson's gaze went from the holo screens, to his com line. "Yes Laura?"

_ "There is a Corporal Wayne here to see you. He tells me it's about findings on the surface."_

Mirson side-glanced the holo screens again. He then looked to his assistant for confirmation.

Anderson nodded.

"Send him in Laura."

The door across the room buzzed and opened. Mirson and Anderson could smell the Corporal before he even entered. The scent was thick and earthy, coupled with human sweat mixed with hydrolic fluid. The Corporal entered the room still wearing his full power suit, dusty and scorched; his helmet tucked under one arm. He stopped and saluted before Mirson's desk.

"Yes Corporal?"

"Sir, we have uncovered the prisoner, as well as the few remaining scientists that were still trapped in the dome."

"What is the prisoners status?"

"Stable, still sealed within the stasis tank."

"And where is the prisoner now located?"

"Aboard the drop ship _Keran_, awaiting further orders."

Mirson resisted a smile behind his steepled fingers. "Thank you Corporal. Anderson, please make arrangements for the prisoner on board the _Caesar_."

Anderson moved from his place behind Mirson's chair. "Come with me please Corporal, we can talk on the way."

Mirson watched as his men left the office, then turned around to his view window to watch the lightning jump from cloud to cloud in the atmosphere of FQ3-59. Ships moved from his mega-carrier to the planets surface. As he watched, another voice came over the com on his desk. This time certainly not his secretary Laura.

_ "Angseth interfered."_

"I'm well aware of her actions." Mirson said under his breath. "Can anyone else hear you?"

_ "Don't insult me Mirson. I am only a voice in your head."_

"Good." Mirson sneered. "Had you been able to capture the bounty hunter on your own, we wouldn't have this mess."

_ "You say 'capture' as if it is an easy task. Aran isn't the one I want however."_

"I gave you the Seattle on a silver platter. I kept all forces away from the area more than long enough for you to capture her. Perhaps you think that was an easy task? As well as covertly ascertaining Aran's whereabouts while pulling troops from the area without drawing suspicions?"

_ "Temper, temper, Admiral."_

"Either way, Aran is in my possession now. I can thank you for that."

_ "I suppose now you want my research?"_

"Yes. That had been part of the bargain."

_ "However I still haven't received my half of the exchange."_

Mirson scowled. "If Angseth is still alive, I will have her delt with."

_ "And if I find her first?"_

"Then do with her as you please."

The com fell silent.

Mirson sipped from a glass of water. "Perhaps this alliance should have been formed sooner."

* * *

"Lieutenant Briar. We are within range of SR3-88."

"On main screen please."

For a moment the main screen was dark, then incoming scans of the planet were displayed. Briar looked up from his notes to study the scans.

His notes in conjunction with reports helped him to make sense of the information before him. Many years ago, an orbiting space station had been attacked by a parasite only known as "X". Briar had prepared a thesis on X many years ago as part of his graduating exam from Orion Medical Academy. He pulled out the old file and re-read his notes. X, as it soon became apparent, was a good name for the parasite. Like the random unknown it represented, X could take the form of whatever it wished. Through preliminary research it had been discovered that X was composed of very many small creatures that would form colonies and attack in a group to consume an energy source. However unlike most parasites, X would also assume the same energy pattern, form, and eventual shape of its prey. This, Briar had theorized, allowed X to infiltrate hives of potential energy sources. Since X was so versatile, it had no other known predators, except for the now extinct Metroid. The report had won him a D+, nothing more. Briar still felt that had been because he didn't choose one of the professors pet subjects. Amazing how bitterness for people long gone could turn up in the oddest corners of the mind.

X had come from SR3-88, the same world as the Metroids. This one little ball of dirt had caused so much trouble and tension in the galaxy. When one spoke of Metroids, one spoke of the Metroid Hunter, the myth, the legend, the hear-say. Due to lack of concrete evidence, most of the Hunters exploits had been reduced to nothing more than fairy tales. Yet the records did show some concrete facts, some of which Briar had accessed in Angseth's files and had displayed before him as an aid.

_ Fact:_ Samus Aran is a real person.

_ Fact:_ Samus Aran has access to highly advanced technology, something that under less dire conditions would cause he or she to become a potential threat to the Confederation.

_ Fact:_ Aran had been the one to pick up many distress calls and succeed with a less-than-orthodox vigilante attitude.

_ Fact_: Wherever Metroid activity is suspected, rather than lose more troops, the Confederation would send out for Aran to wipe out the threat, and the Confederation would pay him/her afterward. The Confederation would then come in, clean up the mess, and begin a vigorous cover-up campaign.

_ Fact:_ Aran's authorization master code had been used to activate the orbiting stations self-destruct sequence.

Then came information that even though he knew there was no way it could be proven, he still kept before him as something to chew on.

_ Fiction:_ Aran was a member of the Confederation policing effort.

_ Fiction:_ Aran was the sole reason the Pirate planet Zebes exploded. Briar was certain that he/she had a decent hand in it, but no one person could possibly destroy an entire planet.

_Fiction:_ Aran convinced the Senate to pass endangered species legislation to help the survival of the Metroids.

And contrary to popular belief, Aran is not a God/Goddess.

Even with all this information, there were a few undetermined rumors. No one knew for certain if Aran was male or female. Records were still conflicting. Vera swore up and down that Aran is a "she", however all Chozo documents listed Aran as a "he". Briar was certain it didn't really matter. Aran's involvement on Tallon IV or with the true inhabitants of Aether for that matter was still sketchy. Briar knew that the Chozo had been working very closely with the Luminoth of late, and while it seemed as if Aran had something to do with it, there had been no concrete proof to be found.

The last bit of folklore had been the hardest to determine, and it was the one that bothered Briar the most. The possible repercussions if the rumor proved to be true were disastrous.

Had Aran been injected with Metroid DNA in order to combat the threat known as X?

The idea that any creature could hunt down and feed on microscopic parasites was still hard to swallow. The only answer he could ever receive on both of these questions was floating outside the ship.

SR3-88. Home of two extinct species: Metroids, and X.

Confederation records did indicate that the orbiting space station had crashed into the planet, with Aran as the one who had programmed it to do so. Mervera was much more current on the Metroid lore than he had ever been. When the station crashed, it took much of the gathered information to the grave with it….

…Along with a fourth of the planet.

SR3-88 had once been a habitable world, like many other desert environments, but with an atmosphere that had been fully breathable to many races. It wouldn't have taken much to terra-form it, even though the local fauna was quite deadly. Deemed so deadly in fact that someone who shouldn't be mentioned again took it into their head that the best way to cure a disease was to shoot the patient. The station had taken out a fourth of the planets surface, sending up a dust cloud and polluting the once pleasant atmosphere. SR3-88 was a planet that looked as if some god had come along and taken a bite out of it.

SR3-88 now had its own asteroid field, and system of rings. Even from this distance he could see the glowing embers of the planets molten core. Large spires of rock stretched far into the atmosphere and into space. The planet had been wounded but it wasn't dead.

Briar recorded his visual confirmation in the _Mabus_' logbook. A formality. He then called to his Coms officer. "Osa, please hail Captain Svenson on a private channel."

"Yes sir."

It only took a moment for Svenson to appear on a holo at Briars side.

_ "Good afternoon."_ Svenson yawned.

"Good afternoon Captain." Briar began. "Our official ETA on SR3-88 is in three hours and twenty-seven minutes. What's left of SR3-88 doesn't look as if it would be very welcoming to a landing party."

_ "The _Socrates_ is equipped with drop ships capable of withstanding these conditions. Once in orbit I will send vessels over to begin unloading our equipment from your holding bays."_

"First I would like to ensure the safety of my crew. Do any of your scans detect the presence of X?"

_ "Not at this distance."_ Svenson's voice dropped in volume. _"Have you heard from Captain Angseth?"_

Briar grew defensive, even though he did his best not to show it; still the subconscious movement of his ears gave him away. "No, I have not."

Svenson noticed that Briars ears didn't so much as fold backward, but _shifted_. He took a moment to gauge Briars level of annoyance before he spoke again. _"Once in orbit, might I invite you over for a celebratory dinner?"_

Briar opened his mouth to decline and then saw the expression on Svenson's face alter slightly. The man had something to say that he wanted off his chest and off the record. Briars ears shifted forward again, a minor gesture he hoped that Svenson would notice. Svenson soon registered slight relief.

"I accept your invitation."

_ "Thank you, Thomas will join us as well."_

Briar shifted his left ear back, then slowly moved it forward. "Confirmed. I'll keep a com line open once in orbit around SR3-88." He closed the channel, then pushed himself away from the seat of the Captains chair. His back popped as he stretched. He grabbed on of the grips on the side and worked out the wrinkles on the right leg of his uniform. "Bagra, you have the bridge."

"Yes sir." Bagra left her station and headed to the Captain's chair. Briar pushed away from the chair and in the direction of the exit hatch. He paused a moment to watch the dance as everyone shifted around to cover different posts.

Briar swung into the hexagonal doorway and felt gravity take hold as he stepped through. Once again his joints spoke to him. His body always ached when he went from zero G to gravity suited to a denser world. Crew members greeted him as he walked up the hall, finally stopping before his office. The door hissed open, then shut behind him. The room re-pressurized, and Briar could feel his ears pop as he sat down behind his desk. For a moment he sat quietly, his mind unable to focus on anything work related. Svenson had brought up a few ghosts when he asked about Angseth, and Briar needed a moment to shoo them away.

_ Vera has been absent before, but she's always at least sent me a message to let me know that she was okay._

He was still confused, and worried. She was out there alone, unescorted, and probably beating herself up over leaving the _Mabus_. Things were fine here. Textbook even. Briar tried to think past all of that, but couldn't help but worry. She had been his mate for the past ten years, and try as he might, he couldn't set aside ten years of memories with one thought.

Nevada turned his head to the window to watch the stars scroll by.

_ Mervera, please come back alive._

* * *

The _Socrates_ was a modest science vessel. Her crew were diligent, watchful, trained professionals. Briar almost envied Svenson and his fifty or so scientists. Their living quarters were very spartan, as was the mess hall and the bridge. Even though the rooms were sparse, every hall and empty closet on the _Socrates_ had been lined with equipment. In some cases, footlockers and machinery blocked passage through the halls, and had to be climbed over or even detour through the maintenance ducts to gain access to certain areas of the ship. The scientists did not seem to mind, as they had to occasionally navigate their way around some odd piece of machinery or coils of wire. Briar on the other hand found the going a little difficult. Thomas behind him kept humming or whistling some silly tune. It only annoyed Briar because the tune sounded familiar, but he couldn't place it. Something he had heard in his childhood perhaps.

Once he had been seated in the officers dining hall Briar felt more comfortable. This room didn't have much furniture either. The floor was covered in plain low-pile carpet, with a simple round table bolted to the floor in the center of the room. The table itself had room for five people, so there would be two empty chairs tonight. Yet even with the lack of furnishings, it was an efficient space. Briar knew immediately that Angseth would love it.

Svenson took his seat after his guests. "I do apologize for the obstacle course."

Thomas was the first to speak. "So they shorted you on cargo space?"

"Oh no, there is plenty of cargo space, it's just all full."

"Is that why so much of your equipment is on our crafts?" Briar asked, albeit bitterly.

"What we couldn't find space for in the halls of our own ship, yes." Svenson shot back.

Thomas smiled and shook his head.

Briar once again spoke. "Your crew seems to be content to climb all over the equipment. Aren't you afraid that something will get broken?"

"Not really. These machines are our teachers. They sleep now, but when they awaken class will begin."

"Both you and Captain Angseth share a knack for poetry!" Thomas laughed.

Svenson smiled. "I don't find it surprising. Poetry is one of mankind's initial responses for making words of what the mind can barely comprehend."

Briar disagreed with Thomas. Svenson and Angseth were nothing alike. Svenson was one of those people that did a good majority of his talking while gesturing with his hands. For the moment Briar kept his mouth shut before saying, "I take it this meeting was not called to discuss poetry, gentlemen."

"To the point Lieutenant." Thomas laughed. "I am also curious of what Svenson has to say."

Svenson placed his hands on the table, loosely folded. Briar noticed that it was a typical nervous gesture of his. "So soon? I had hoped we could eat first." After a moment of careful contemplation, he asked, "Why are we here?"

"Is that a rhetorical question?" Thomas responded with all sincerity.

Svenson darted his red eyes between Thomas and Briar, his hands clenched on the table, almost as if he were in the process of being interrogated by heavily armed thugs.

Briar carefully spoke. "I think what Svenson means is why are the three of us out at this corner of the galaxy when our efforts would obviously be put to better use elsewhere."

Thomas grew silent; he took this with quiet grace. For a moment he looked years older. Just one quick glance held a maturity that Briar hadn't noticed at first. Svenson nodded before speaking. "It has never been part of protocol to send two completely battle-ready cruisers to escort a science vessel. Perhaps light artillery ships, but never a full cruiser, let alone two of them. My mission is to only gather small samples from the surface."

Briar once again filed that under "interesting." Was all that equipment really necessary to gather soil samples?

"Perhaps they felt that Metroids could still be an issue and wanted to ensure that the scientists had enough cannon fodder to complete their research." Thomas replied snidely.

The comment was not lost on Briar. "That would be a reason that Angseth could have been sent here, as she is one of the few individuals to have ever come in contact with a Metroid and lived to tell about it."

Svenson unfolded his hands and laid them flat on the table. "That doesn't explain why Thomas is here."

"Maybe my uncle wanted me out of the way for whatever reason."

"That is a theory."

Briar had no wish to pursue this conversation any further. Svenson appeared to be nervous around Thomas, both here and at the wedding. He picked up his glass of water and spoke. "Or it could just be that Mirson wanted extra security for this mission."

The smirk returned to Thomas' features. "It doesn't seem at all strange to you?"

"That a System Admiral would send two battle cruisers to escort a science vessel that would only be collecting soil samples? Yes, it does seem odd, however I refuse to sit and speculate on a conspiracy theory without further evidence. If the two of you manage to come up with some concrete evidence, then I might play this game with you. Until then I have my orders." Briar set his glass down.

Svenson and Thomas exchanged glances. The door opening broke the silence. The cook of the _Socrates_ entered carrying a few trays. He set them on the table and lifted the stainless steel domes from their food. Briar had to admit that he was very hungry, and the food looked good even if the conversation wasn't. The cook left, taking the domes with him.

"I see now." Thomas said aloud. "Captain Angseth doesn't feel the same as you do. I can tell that from the way she looks at Admiral Mirson." He set his blue eyes on Briar. Once again Briar steeled himself against the way his blue gaze penetrated into his soul, as if this young captain were decades older. "Tell me Lieutenant. What would Captain Angseth say if she were here now?"

Briar pinned his ears back as both Svenson and Thomas set their gaze on him. The steak on his plate was now the furthest thing on his mind. Svenson appeared pleading, Thomas looked as if he already knew the answer.

Briar cleared his throat. "I cannot say for certain, but I feel that she would agree with the both of you, however she would be reluctant to further ignite matters without proof."

Svenson pulled his plate closer. "I do not have proof, only circumstantial evidence."

"Oh do share." Thomas said carefully. He appeared amused. He too pulled his plate of food closer, cutting into his steak with zest.

Svenson sat for a moment, before speaking. "These three ships, the _Socrates_, the _Regal_ and the _Mabus_, are all over fifty years old. Theoretically all these vessels are too outdated to compete with newer ones. Captain Thomas here had been pulled from duty aboard a new vessel, the _Infinity_, for service aboard the _Regal_."

"That is true, however it was my understanding that it would only be for a limited time. I was not Captain of the _Infinity_, only a secondary officer." Thomas offered.

"I still don't understand why all of us were pulled from our normal duties to come way out here in the middle of nowhere." Svenson hissed. Briar was impressed. This scrawny man had mean a streak after all.

Thomas snickered. "Sounds as if all of us are getting shelved."

Svenson turned his attention to his food. "That is what I don't understand. Angseth I could understand, she's near retirement, I don't have anything to set me apart from any other science officer. However Thomas is still young with much potential."

Briar chewed on his steak, medium rare, just as he liked it. If they insisted on ruining his meal by undermining his superiors by making odd speculations… that was fine. He could up the ante and make everyone even more nervous. "Perhaps Thomas is a mole?" He stated while raising an eyebrow.

Svenson looked pale, Thomas appeared to be amused. "And why do you say that?" Thomas asked.

"Thomas is the only one who seems to have been purposely placed here, and a recent addition to the Admirals family. He would seem the likely choice, then again I could be the mole." Briar sipped his water. "As I said, we can sit and spout conspiracy theories until we are blue in the face, it won't do us any good."

Svenson admitted defeat by finally taking a bite of his food. Briar felt that Thomas' face would split open from the grin he wore. Thomas lifted his glass of water to his mouth, and then set it down. He leaned back in his chair, never taking his eyes from Briar. Finally he spoke. "Captain Angseth chooses her men well. I can't wait until I have another opportunity to speak with her."

"Calendar Girl." Briar suddenly said.

Thomas paused. "Beg pardon?"

"Calendar Girl. That was the song you were whistling earlier. I had trouble placing it."

Thomas burst out laughing, while Svenson looked confused. Thomas wiped a tear from his eye. "I didn't think anyone else knew that song!"

"Its an old one. I remember it was one of the bits of Human culture that had been taught in my classes. In Vocational Education we had the opportunity to study different aspects of different cultures to prepare for our introduction into the Confederation. Earth Musical Studies had been one of my favorites."

"So you learned 'Calendar Girl'?" Svenson asked. "Learn something new every day."

"I'll share with the two of you a secret, so that in the future if you so desire you can embarrass this mole." Thomas smiled. "When I was younger I had a terrible stutter. I learned to overcome it through singing. I chose to study the genre of Earth music known as Do-Wop because it often involved singing in various pitches and tones that I found to be great practice. Most of the songs stuck. I'm a hit when I get drunk."

This did cause Briar to smile. It was the only bit of useful information he had received the entire night.

* * *

Weavel sat waiting. He waited while perched high on the ice wall, cybernetic fingers growing stiff in the cold. He waited until that walking disaster of a Confederate Marine pulled himself over the rim of the cavern and began walking along the glacier toward whatever goal he had. Weavel waited because he didn't trust the Marines actions. His survival instincts told him to drop off the wall and get lost in the ice cavern as soon as possible, however his better thinking had told him to sit still and keep an eye on the Confederate freak.

Private or Captain, that fool had no reason to be here alone.

Perhaps he was another traveling soul that had stolen a Marine's armor, not the first time it had happened. Or could he be someone who just lost their sanity? Saw one too many dead bodies and decided to go on his own little adventure? He had introduced himself as "Angseth." Now that was an unusual name, yet somewhat familiar.

Weavel shook the thought away, and focused on his decent down the wall of ice. The cavern was quiet, save for the sound of his hands digging into the wall. The moons high above gave some light, turning the ice wall before him into a giant white glowing surface broken only by small dark dents. Normally he would not leave such an obvious trail, but at the moment he had no other choice. If he used anything other than his hands, then he risked another cave-in. The Bounty Hunter paused and looked over his shoulder again, scanning the lip of the cavern. The Marine was gone. Why had that Marine been here anyway? So far out of the Confederation mainstream, and solo at that. That fact didn't settle well with him.

Whatever, Weavel had a file to translate. He had insisted that Samus change her default language setting in her craft from Chozo to Standard. Even through all the clear plating, and exposed bone structure she could show some facial emotion. She had only smirked and gave a light chuckle in response to his request.

Damned woman.

Now because of her stubbornness, Weavel had to hunt down a piece of Chozo scripture he could use to translate the data with. All had been going well until he encountered the Sheegoth.

In his haste he had decided to run along the top of the glacier, using his sensors and scanners to locate weak points to avoid. He didn't want to waste precious time solving the patterns and puzzles in the caves below. Everything had been going smoothly. He ran, watching the sunset over the tundra, when suddenly he had been attacked from behind.

The Sheegoth never registered on his scanners until he had been right on top of them. They were the only creatures in the universe that could render advanced scanners useless. The Sheegoth rose from the ground and gored him in the back. Weavel then hit a weak patch of ice and fell into this cave. The snow didn't even have time to fully settle when that Marine came charging in here like a freight train. He drew his weapon as an instinct, not intending to hurt, but at least divert. It seemed as if the Marine just wanted out of this cave as much as he did.

Weavel slung his legs off his shoulders and gave them a flick. The legs straightened out and locked. Weavel braced his right hand in the wall, then used his left to swing his legs like some large olive green club. The wall cracked, exposing a small cave beyond. Perhaps even the same system that Marine had come through. He swung once more and the thin ice gave way, creating an opening large enough for him to slip through. Once on the other side Weavel reconnected his legs, stood, and scanned the narrow hall.

Footprints on the floor led him to one conclusion. The Marine had been here already. Weavel took a step, and a jolt went through his torso as his lower half locked into place. Now curiosity really did have the better of him. Where had that Marine gone? Did he have time to investigate and still complete his mission? Weavel paused for a moment, reading his scanners and radiation information. Scans reveled trace amounts of Phazon in the area, then again Tallon IV was bathed in Phazon. His cybernetic body had an almost inherent immunity to the substance, and his organic components, what little remained of them, were heavily shielded. In other words, he had a little time to explore.

Samus would lecture him at length over the way he never seemed to explore his surroundings enough. He had to give her one thing, she was thorough. She could move quickly over almost any terrain. He envied that. Well, now he was going to take a page out of her training manual and do some in-depth exploration.

Damned Woman.

The Marines footprints were not hard to follow, and since they seemed to lead in the direction Weavel needed to travel in the first place, he didn't argue. Two for one. His radiation counter kept a steady beep and click. The beeps and clicks would grow louder and faster as the radiation grew. In the past Weavel had discovered that radiation could move in pockets. In one place, nothing, it other places, off the chart. As he moved through the halls and tunnels, he saw that the Marine had made no effort to hide his tracks.

Cobble stones soon appeared under his feet. The Bounty Hunter examined the ice walls, and eventually entered another hall. A light green glow spread over the walls. This hall opened into another cavern. His radiation counter suddenly spiked, causing him to stop and wince. He looked around to see that he wasn't in a cavern, but a temple.

Phazon radiation in this lower temple was high. Not high enough to corrupt his shielding, but high enough to cause these plants before him to take on a light green glow. The footprints on the ground indicated that the Marine had also been through here. That bastard must have had some pretty decent shielding to survive in here and make it out alive. Weavel felt fortunate that the Marine had done the majority of the exploration for him. Samus would just have to remain disappointed. He followed the footprints until they led him to a small opening in the wall. Once again he broke his body down into just his legs, and his upper torso. He set his lower half at the entrance to the tunnel, engaging the stationary turret function to hopefully dissuade any other explorers. He then raised himself up on his hands turned feet, and began to briskly trot up the tunnel.

Why hadn't Samus translated the file? Usually she would translate any information before she delivered it to him. Perhaps she had been in a hurry. But if the file had some new information, what couldn't she share with him before disappearing? He had waited the required twenty-four hours before trying to contact her. This file was her only reply. More curious than her disappearance, was the only piece of standard writing contained in the file.

_ Copy 1 of 2._

Which of course made Weavel wonder who the hell could Samus have trusted enough to give another copy to. She made back-ups of everything, perhaps the second copy went into her own personal data banks, but that just didn't suit her. She had called him dense before, laughed at him the only way someone could through a text message. She never spoke to him. Weavel felt that she had lost the ability to, if she ever had the ability in the first place. Chozo didn't talk. For such an intelligent race, they lacked developed enough vocal cords for communication of that kind. Since Weavel had met her two years ago, they only communicated through text. Why have the file encrypted in Chozo, then one piece of standard thrown in? Weavel knew it was Samus' idea of a clue.

Their last conversation went through his mind, as he moved through the small tunnel. Perhaps there was a clue there.

_ You've been silent lately, you haven't checked in a while Aran._

_ I've been compiling data, and comparing readings._

_ On what?_

_ My obsession, Metroids. The Confederation wishes to speak to me about them. I don't think I should go, not after the recent piece of information you had given me about SR3-88._

_ Then plead for the Chozo Council to interfere on your behalf._

_ I can't do that._

_ Why? Does it break your code of honor?_

_ No. Simply put, I just don't know who among the Chozo I can trust anymore. I'll send the report along to you as soon as I finish._

_ Wait, where are you? I can meet you._

_ You better hurry. I'm enroute to the Seattle. I received a distress call. You know I can't turn it down._

_ Take care of yourself._

Weavel slowed as he left the tunnel. Aran couldn't go back to her own people. Weavel could sympathize with that. What information could possibly be in that file?

He stopped before the statue in the hall, however he didn't even look up at the glyphs on the stone before him, instead he stared at the floor. In the snow he saw two sets of footprints. One recognized as the tread of Samus' boot, the other, standard issue Marine. His own print was soon added to the collection.

Weavel suddenly had an idea of who received the other file. But if the Confederation was after her, why give a copy to a crazy Private?

_ Angseth._

"Captain…" Weavel said aloud. "Aether, the only survivor of the Aether incident."

Weavel had never been hit by lightning thankfully, but that sudden idea must have been what it felt like. He quickly scanned the passage, then began hauling ass back through the tunnel. The clumsy Marine couldn't have gotten far. Marines didn't know how to run! The huddled together in such easily disposed of groups! Weavel exploded out of the tunnel and collected his lower torso. How much time had passed? Did he even have a prayer of catching up to her?

Marines were not known for their skill. Numbers, yes, he could give them that, but never their skill. Then again, he was trailing Angseth, and that woman had more than her fair share of lore built-up around her. Now that he thought about it, Samus _had_ mentioned her once or twice. What could a Marine know about running?!

An alert ran across his visor, bringing Weavel to a grinding halt. His ships computer relayed some disturbing information. A Chozo vessel had entered the atmosphere. This was not good news. Before his ship went dormant, it stated the newcomer as a fully armed escort vessel. Weavel had no choice but to find some corner to hide in. Bounty Hunter or not, he couldn't take on a full platoon of Chozo troops.

The Glacier provided many nooks in which to cram his body, however in the end he settled for staking out the cavern he had fallen into. Here he could still receive encrypted signals from his craft, as well as guard the terrain. Once again he was thankful that Samus had shared some of her technology with him. Otherwise he would never be able to track Chozo vessels.

_ I don't know who I can trust among the Chozo anymore._

Weavel huffed; the sound came from a speaker on his shoulder like a digital blur. _For that damn Marine's sake, I hope she knows how to run like all hell is after her._

* * *

The sun had risen before Weavel considered it safe to venture out of hiding. He had spent those hours alert, tense, and shielding his existence. He scaled the ice wall, using the same hand-holds he had already created. Once again he stood on the broad flat glacier of Phendrana. The morning air was still, and beasts of all persuasions began to awaken. Partly to his relief, the Marines footprints were still visible, leading to the south. No wind had carried them away, and the cold night air had covered them in a layer of ice. The Chozo would have had no problem locating her. Had she come here with the Chozo? No, that couldn't be the case. He remembered a Confederation single-man fighter showing up on his radar briefly when he was seeking a place to land.

The Bounty Hunter followed the prints once more, keeping weapons at the ready in the event that something attacked him. He crested a ridge, then paused, looking down at a collection of creatures feasting upon some carrion. He shot a few rounds to scare away the creatures, and then began to investigate the scene.

Three Sheegoth carcasses lay scattered, the snow under their bodies the color of rust—blood long since spilled. Among the bodies were a few fragments of Marine armor.

_ Stupid Marine._

Weavel began a leisurely walk down the hill. No sense in rushing, everything down there was dead. He walked around the carcasses, shooing away the last remaining scavengers. Sheegoth bits here, Marine armor there, this had been one fierce battle.

_ Who had won?_

Somewhere in his metal breast he held onto the hope that the Marine was still breathing. As a rule, the Chozo would have left no prints. He suddenly rested his scanners on a leg.

_ Is that all that's left?_

Weavel knelt to inspect the leg and gazed upon the blood-splattered armor. The leg was cybernetic, and not entirely whole. It lay in many pieces in a ten-foot radius. One cybernetic leg did not a Marine make. Further inspection of the area revealed nothing but more armor fragments. Nothing organic. He was ready to move on when he spied something strange.

Sheegoth on Tallon IV did not have crested horns that resembled human hands. Weavel went to investigate. His scanners gave a reading that startled him. The hand alone had enough Phazon radiation to make his sensors buzz. The hand also sprouted right through the crown of the Sheegoth's head, straight through the brainpan. No one, regardless of their point of origin was strong enough to punch through a Sheegoths noggin. Scanners also showed that there was no Marine in the Sheegoths gut. One leg, one arm…where was the rest of her? Had the Chozo interfered at the right moment? He noticed a splattered blood trail, identified as human that stopped suddenly, the pattern indicated that the blood had been running off the edge of a platform of sorts.

Weavel took a step back, and after examining the scene for a moment; he came to a conclusion that Samus would most likely scoff at.

Angseth must have been ambushed by this group of Sheegoth, losing her leg and arm in the process. Angseth, after killing the beasts, then reached into the Sheegoth's head and pulled her arm out before it had a chance to swallow.

In that moment Weavel came to the conclusion that this Marine was not only stupid, but also one crazy bitch that he had no desire to butt heads with.

_What odd friends you have Samus._


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10:**

Angseth was choking, her head underwater, fluid in her lungs, clawed hands holding her under. She struggled against the hands, weak, and fighting back that primordial fear of drowning. Humans couldn't live underwater. Pain ran screaming through her mind, down her spine and through what was left of her limbs. The fluid filled her lungs, and she gagged, even though she wasn't quite drowning, her body still supplied with enough oxygen. After a moment her body became lucid and she felt numb. Maybe she was drowning. Angseth pushed against the clawed hands, against the heavy fluid.

She opened her eyes and watched the last bubble of air leave her lips. The water around her seemed to have been tinted pink, whether it came from her blood in the water or something else she couldn't tell and frankly didn't care. Vera watched the bubbles rise through the water. They took on a dark purple hue as they broke the silver surface.

_ Phazon,_

She relaxed, her panic subsided and the hands lifted from her body. She could see smoke-like wisps of purple rising from her pores toward the surface of the water. The smoke looked dead, dangerous. Startled, Vera looked past the surface of the water toward faces peering down at her.

_ Chozo…_

Angseth remembered the one on the left. Smoky blue feathers framing another white mask-like arrangement of feathers around its green eyes. It peered through the water at her, its expression unreadable. More purple wisps came from her pores and clouded the fluid, which had the wrong weight and texture to be water. Either the fluid held a sedative, or she was just that tired. Angseth closed her eyes once more. Her body relaxed and everything seemed to settle once more. For the moment she was safe.

* * *

Angseth awoke again to the sound of light rustling. There was no danger here, some deeper instinct told her. She was warm; sensation came back to her fingers and toes. She lay on something soft, inviting. Her body naked save for a gown much like a large soft cotton T-shirt. The room was dimly lit by soft glowing shades of orange and pink. The effect was very soothing, like a sun set. Angseth sat up slowly, her body relaxed, muscles loose and responsive. Soft things ran down her arm and settled against her bare leg.

_ Feathers?_

She looked around and discovered that she sat in a large basket, with white and brown downy feathers surrounding her. The cotton T-shirt she wore had alien words or glyphs across her left breast. The room was oval shaped with curved walls and floor. The only other fixture in the room aside from the basket in which she sat, was a small button-like fixture on the ceiling. It cast a light pink light down on her. Angseth still felt sleepy, almost dizzy.

_ Its like I'm sitting in a large egg._ She pondered. The air was pleasant and clean. _I can remember the Sheegoth, losing my right arm. The Fluid, purple smoke…what does that mean?_ Angseth turned her attention to her right arm. It stopped mid-bicep, her flesh neatly stitched over the stump. Upon looking down at her right leg she discovered all traces of cybernetics had been removed.

"What the hell?" Angseth ran her fingers over the sensitive skin. She hadn't seen her leg this naked in years. With a sigh she flopped back into the basket, and watched the feathers flutter up around her. She still felt very tired. "One arm and one leg down. Two more to go." She ran her fingers through her hair. Normally the loss of a limb would have sent her into another depression, however her mind either hadn't registered the fact yet, or she genuinely didn't care. Angseth felt perfectly content to remain here surrounded by the feathers in this basket.

_ Stop._

So soft, so inviting.

_ Wait a minute._

It would be so easy to just sleep again.

_ I'm not thinking like myself._

Just sleep.

"These aren't my thoughts." She sat up again, this time fixing her gaze on that small red button on the ceiling. That had to be where it came from. Even though she had no psychic talents, she knew when someone was trying to guide her thinking. "I don't know who you are, but stop that subliminal shit right now. Show yourself!"

Just go to sleep Vera, dream good dreams. If the light goes away, the pain will return.

Angseth shook the thought away. "I'm willing to take that risk!" She began to search the basket and room for a weapon of some kind. Nothing new turned up. Vera began to ponder the practicality of using the basket itself to hurl at the ceiling. Just as this thought crossed her mind, the pink light went out.

The sensation that followed was one that Angseth would never forget. Immediately her leg, arm and to a greater degree, her back simultaneously sang with their respective aches and pains. Her body was letting her know that all was not well. She fell back into the feathers, and assumed the fetal position. Sore wasn't a strong enough word to describe the pain running through her body. Vera closed her eyes and tried to think past the pain. The feathers were no longer as soft, but still smelled sweet. She suddenly sensed another presence in the room. Angseth opened her eyes and forced herself to look up at the visitor.

At first it seemed that nothing had changed, but then she noticed a few more additions to the room. Perched at even intervals on the walls surrounding her, were several multicolored spheres. Each of them had been placed about halfway up the wall. Another cramp rocked her body as she examined the spheres. Bright sharp pains in her joints punctuated slow dull aches as she moved. Angseth focused on the sphere directly before her. If she focused on that, then she could push the pain away, and eventually surpass it.

A breeze blew over her skin, almost like the shift in air she felt while standing under an air vent. For a moment Vera took her attention from the spheres before her and glanced at the button on the ceiling. The soft pink light was back. However "light" wasn't the right word. The last that she had checked, light had no easily discernable weight. She could feel this light settle on her skin. Moreover she could feel it soak into her skin. If she would just rest, then the pain would go away.

Angseth didn't want the pain to go away, the pain let her know that she was still in the physical realm. Beside that, she had been in pain before, and this wasn't pain, this was soreness, and when one is sore, isn't it just better to sleep it off? All creatures rested when they were in pain, it was a natural response to physical trauma.

_ I have never owned an animal or even encountered them outside of the odd mission. This line of logic won't work with me._ Angseth thought bitterly.

The longer the light stayed, the more her body began to relax, the more she felt her aggressions slip away. Vera clung to one fear, that of more injury to life and the few limbs she had left, the rest she allowed to become subdued in the light. Slowly that one last fear even became little more than a curiosity. She opened her mouth and tried to speak, her tongue seemed to have relaxed as well, causing her words to slur.

"Friends? Or will you try to kill me?" Now that it was out, the question seemed ridiculous.

The spheres were silent. They no longer felt so strange.

_ No harm will come to you Marine. Rest. Matters will be discussed later._

Angseth really had no choice, rest was a good idea and damn these feathers were comfortable.

* * *

Waking up this time around was more conventional. Angseth's eyes peeled open, her body no longer had that effervescent feeling, and in its place was something she could only describe as a hangover. Nausea, muscles that felt as dry and unyielding as bridge cables, and her head seemed to weigh twice what it should. Vera moved her right arm to push herself to sit; however her elbow didn't connect. She turned her attention to that arm, and felt memories rise about previous nights. Even though she could remember raising the gun and pulling the trigger with her toe, the fact that her arm was now gone still hadn't set in fully.

_ You'd think that I'd get accustomed to waking up and finding my limbs missing._

Angseth stared at the stump for a few moments, still trying to process the memories of Tallon IV. Had she really blown her arm off? And what was that sudden burst of strength she had? She remembered climbing on top of the Sheegoth, and pulling her arm out through its head. She could remember the blue tinting in her vision. Normally she would have blamed it on fluctuations in her visor due to heavy damage, but at the time she wasn't wearing a helmet. Her head began to ache as she tried to make sense of everything. Vera soon turned her attention back to what was left of her arm. _It really is gone. No more writing with that hand, no more two-handed sports._ The more she focused on her pale bruised flesh, another thought occurred to her. _I will need to drain my entire savings account to buy a new arm and leg, and find a reputable cybernetics doctor._ That was something else she didn't want to think about. When she had been fitted for her cybernetic leg, the calibration process had been very painful. The human leg contained well over one thousand different nerves that had to be tested. Vera could only say "ow" in so many different pitches. If Nevada hadn't been there, she would have killed that mechanic.

_ Nevada,_

She missed him. He was probably worried sick about her. Vera still remembered sitting in the cybernetic doctor's operating room, some egghead at her feet, tightening and loosening different screws. Nevada had recommended this guy. Nevada had also been the one to read her emotions, and make the necessary precautions. When the calibrations had gotten particularly painful, he held Vera back, and placed the thickest part of his forearm in her mouth, giving her something to take her aggressions out on. She had drawn blood, leaving a scar that was still visible to this day. Angseth didn't discover until much later that bites of this nature were considered a form of foreplay on his world. Small things that turned out to be very big things endeared him to her.

Angseth took in another breath to clear her mind and calm herself. "I'll be back as soon as I can Kitty. I love you."

_ I have to be strong, I need to keep my head or I will never see Nevada again._ A half-chuckle left her throat. _I can always buy new limbs, my head would be a bit harder to replace._

This time she rolled to her left, and pushed herself to a sitting position. The light above her had gone from pink to blue. Now that she took notice, the whole color scheme of the room had changed. The light seemed more natural. The orange and red sunset had been replaced by what appeared to be daylight as seen through frosted glass. The room was sparse, save for herself, the basket, and the feathers filling it. Angseth's hand suddenly jumped to her neck, yes, the necklace with the fang was still there. She felt relief come over her. They had removed all of her clothing and the remains of Jones' armor, from the look of things, did a wonderful job of cleaning up all the blood and gore that had covered her body. The spheres were no longer perched on the walls around her.

Angseth stretched and her gaze fell to the opposite end of the basket. Leaning against the side of the basket was a primitive prosthetic leg. It reminded her of her first one, a leather cuff went around her thigh, with a swivel joint in place of the knee. The shin was just a long metal shaft that ended in a foot-shaped piece of metal. She immediately reached for the leg, and pulled it toward her. She also noticed a pair of pants set at the end of the basket. "Thank goodness." Vera sighed.

Her first task wasn't going to be easy. She needed to get the leg strapped on with only one arm. Angseth pondered it for a moment, then slipped the cuff over her thigh, and braced the foot against the end of the basket. She then used her left hand to pull the straps so they were snug, not tight. Now for the second order of business: Pants. Those took a little longer to pull up to her waist. They were lose, like hospital scrubs, and just as comfortable.

"Ok Vera, here goes." Angseth swung her legs off the side of the basket, and felt her feet connect with the floor. She carefully pushed herself to stand, and wondered if her subconscious remembered more about walking on a prosthetic than she did. Her balance was off, and the stump of her right arm stuck straight out, as if to help compensate. She still had all the aches as before, but the nausea had subsided. Angseth shuffled a couple of laps around the basket, loosening and tightening straps as needed. On her third lap, she almost tripped over another sphere on the floor. Vera almost jumped, and raised a hand to her chest. Just like the night before, no warning, no sound, just a sudden presence.

She took a step back and almost lost her balance, and then recovered, leaning on the basket. "You guys need to stop doing that." She ran her hand through her hair, one of her many nervous gestures.

The sphere rolled backward a few feet, then stopped. The joints in the sphere began to take on an inner light. It seeped from the cracks and seams, becoming brighter as panels pulled apart. Angseth remembered that Aran had the same technology, a Morph Ball. There was a sound like an electric egg cracking open, and then standing before her was one of the Chozo.

The Chozo were a bird-like race that seemed to be as old as the universe itself. Through all of the expanding the Confederation had done since its beginning, they had yet to discover territory that the Chozo hadn't already conquered, used, then moved on. While the Chozo played only a minimal role in interstellar politics, their influence and political sway was immense. They had been one of the major donors of technology, if not culture. Vera's mind raced through the mountains of files and studies done of Chozo culture, and realized that she still hadn't the vaguest idea of how their society and laws worked. She didn't even know one scrap of their language. Surprising since she spoke seven languages fluently, and could at least say "yes" and "no" in twenty others. Angseth had been able to pick up languages faster than most people. Yet the Chozo were just simply elusive. All this added up in her mind that she was really out of her league here. She had no idea if this place was a hospital room or jail cell, or if this Chozo before her was a nurse or executioner. The lack of information made her very nervous.

As Angseth stood looking up at this creature, the thought occurred to her that she had never understood just how _tall_ the Chozo were. All the scans and holos she had seen of them didn't do any justice. This one stood at seven feet easily. It had expressionate bird-like eyes, and a shiny black beak. Light gray feathers lay smooth against its skin. Angseth herself stood at only five feet four inches. She had to look up a long way to meet the Chozo eyes. Angseth had grown accustomed to taller beings, so what difference did two feet make?

The Chozo lifted its left hand/claw as well as its right. The right it placed on its chest, over its heart. The left began to trace symbols in the air, forming tight precise shapes. Sometimes the fingers folded, other times they spread and created new forms. Angseth watched fascinated trying to read into or make sense of the symbols. A headache began to settle in, almost as if her brain couldn't completely wrap around what she had just seen.

"…_with me."_

Angseth snapped her attention away from the hands and focused her attention on the Chozo's eyes again. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" She had been almost hypnotized by the patterns traced in the air. The Chozo began to make the patterns again, Angseth fought not to watch, instead she focused on the voice. She knew the voice was a universal translating device, but the speech was smoother than anything she had ever encountered before.

"_Please turn and place your left hand behind your back. I have instructions to bring you with me."_

Angseth hesitated for a moment but slowly turned around, placing her left hand behind her back, typical of a prisoner escort. The chances of this place being a hospital were diminishing rapidly. She looked down and saw another sphere on the floor. This one was blue, with a red almost flame-like pattern on the plates. _If they were planning on killing me, they've already had plenty of opportunities._ Vera studied this new addition and then felt a clawed hand grab her wrist. This startled her, and she took a moment to calm herself. Right now it didn't take much to set off her adrenaline. She was high-strung enough being in an unfamiliar environment, with creatures she had never met before, and missing two very important limbs. Angseth wasn't certain how the Chozo felt about her presence and the chances that she would be welcomed with open arms were very slim.

"_Please follow behind the sphere, move slowly."_

Angseth kept her eye on the ball as it rolled away from her toward an opening in the wall. Some of her anxiety faded and became replaced by curiosity when she noticed that the flame design stayed stationary even as the sphere itself moved. She looked over her shoulder toward the first Chozo. "Where are you taking me?" Confederation law stated that they owed her at least that much information.

"_The tribunal wishes to speak with you. Your fate will be decided then."_

Angseth faced forward again. The sphere rolled through the opening, and it widened enough for Angseth and the Chozo to pass through. _Your fate will be decided then._ That line didn't sit well with her. Fear crept in, compounding what had already been present. She hadn't been this afraid since she held her ground against the Splinters. The Chozo were apparently very tough on trespassers.

They stepped into the hall, filled with more natural seeming light coming through the same frosted glass. Angseth looked away from the sphere at her new surroundings. The walls were smooth, the walls ceiling and floor all the same hue. Almost as if she were walking in a giant seashell, very disorienting, almost sterile.

"_Please continue moving forward."_

Angseth turned her attention back to the Morph Ball before her. It rolled, it's blue flames flickering just above its glossy surface. They continued down a gentle slope, the only remote landmark in this barren hall. No doors, no windows, only even light and slowly sloping floor. Eventually the sphere stopped, and light began to seep from the joints. Vera stopped and stood still as the Morph Ball split apart and another Chozo appeared before her. The flame design seemed to transfer to its armor. The Chozo behind her let go of her wrist and stood to her left, while the other took a place on her right. The wall opposite her appeared to melt away, revealing a large room. In the center of the room sat a blue cube that seemed to be made of some kind of gel.

The Chozo escorted Angseth into the room, and stopped just shy of the cube. Vera soon observed that the room seemed to have been composed of two layers. The first layer being the area she stood in. A force field separated her from the other layer of the room. She couldn't make out many details in that layer, the field distorted her view. The field began to clear when the wall closed behind her.

At first there only seemed to be colors, directly before her, mainly red, to her left, blue, and her right, green. Soon the colors sharpened, and Vera began to make out three Chozo, each seated, perhaps even perched, and clad in very ornate robes. The garments themselves were not as impressive as the large headdress each wore. Until she knew proper titles to address each with, her mind assigned each of them a temporary name according to their dominant color scheme.

Directly before her sat Red, seemingly the elder of the three. He wore many layers of red robes in many different hues. The effect was much like a sunrise that had been twisted and woven into fabric. His claw-like hands appeared soft, with neatly manicured nails, trimmed short and painted dark maroon. His fingers were covered in gold rings, most of them set with red stones. Some as dark as pomegranate seeds, others glowed with an inner light. The hem of his robes bore designs that seemed deliberate, almost as if they could be writing of some form. Angseth's eye followed these designs along the hem of his robe until her attention became drawn to his beak. It too, had a dark maroon color, then painted, or perhaps even carved with intricate designs, different from the ones on his robes. Dark feathers led to the base of his headdress, it extended almost three feet off his head, sweeping back like some kind of elaborate exaggerated crest. Feathers, bells, and precious metals glistened, chimed and shifted with every move and twitch of his head. Angseth then ventured to look Red in the eye. Deep brown set in a mask of white feathers locked onto hers, and for a moment, Vera felt her heart stop, as if he had looked right through her and saw every last secret her body possessed.

She quickly looked away, taking a moment to examine Blue and Green. They wore robes and headdress of a similar kind in their respective colors, neither of them however met her eyes as Red had.

"_Please be seated."_ Red spoke. Except he wasn't speaking, he wore another universal translating device on or near his person. Angseth tried to listen, but had been captured by the intricate and delicate patterns his fingers traced in the air. She felt like a cat that had trained her gaze on the hops and skips of a sparrow.

Vera tore her gaze away, and then took a seat on the cube. It was firm, yet soft. She turned to face the tribunal. She had been through plenty of inquisitions before, and thus far, this one didn't appear to be any different.

"_State your name, rank and planet of origin."_ Blue spoke.

Angseth took in another tense breath, she felt nervous and afraid. _Nevada._ She swallowed her anxiety and spoke aloud, meeting Blue's eyes. "My name is Mervera Diane Angseth, Captain of the Confederation Battle Cruiser _Mabus_. My commanding officer is System Admiral Mizzen of the Orion sector. I claim no home world." The last wasn't entirely true, she had no home world, but still paid the taxes on Osiris VI, where she owned property.

Red, Blue and Green seemed to speak amongst themselves, due to all the finger shaking and hand flailing. After a moment, they turned back to Angseth.

"_Are you aware of the warrant for your immediate capture?"_

Angseth felt those words hit her, even though it didn't really surprise her. She answered truthfully. "No, I was not aware of any warrant."

"_The warrant had been issued by System Admiral Mirson. What was your business on Tallon IV?"_

"I…" She thought over her words. If she told the truth, then she would also need to admit that she was away from her post. There was no use in denying it. Vera didn't want to face a panel of Chozo telepaths. "I had been looking for a sample of Chozo writing to use to aid me in translating a data file I had received from the Bounty Hunter Samus Aran."

Red spoke. _"We found this file when searching the data banks on your ship. It reveals nothing of interest."_

"_Were you not briefed on the dangers of Tallon IV? Perhaps you completely ignored the satellites?"_ Green demanded.

"I, I had known."

"_What has removed you from your post?"_ Blue asked.

Angseth closed her mouth. She didn't like it when people became pushy, regardless of what race they were.

Red suddenly let loose a loud squawk. Deafening in the silent room. Angseth almost jumped. Blue and Green calmed, silenced for the moment. Red then spoke. _"Enlighten us, How did you come to Tallon IV?"_

Angseth stood from the cube. Her right leg had begun to ache. "I had been assigned to escort a science vessel to SR3-88. En route we received an SOS from a deep space station, the _Seattle_. Upon reaching the _Seattle_, we discovered Gamma Fleet Pirate activity, as well as Aran and Pirate Captain Ridley engaged in heavy combat. Their battle had destroyed the fusion reactor in the heart of the station. Gamma Fleet then retreated, and Aran gave chase. I then authorized the release of several fighters to assist. I joined them. When the Pirate ship warped out, Aran and I were caught in the wake. I chose to join her in pursuit."

"_Why?"_

Angseth looked to the floor, a smile creeping over her lips. "I owe her one."

"_Angseth. The sole surviving Marine of the Aether incident?"_

"I am, only because of Aran's help."

Silence all around. Not even Blue had anything to say. Then Green asked, _"Tell us how you came across this file?"_

"In our pursuit of the Pirates, we landed on an uncolonized world. Strangely, within twelve hours, Confederation Marines has landed with the intent of our capture. It was then that Aran transferred that file to me. We were captured, I escaped and she…" Angseth tried to fight back the rising tide of memories of that thing in the tank. "She was taken prisoner. I had hoped that if I were able to read the file, then I could help her."

"_I don't believe that."_ Blue retorted. Angseth was beginning to see that he was a bit of a skeptic. _"Why give the information to you?"_

"_I am curious as well."_ Green stated. _"Why not contact her people?"_

Angseth answered truthfully. "I don't know."

"_This information, however insignificant, bought you a new lease on life."_ Red announced. _"When you had been found, our soldiers were willing to allow nature to take its course. Then you spoke of the Hatchling."_

Angseth let this sink in. She didn't know how to begin thanking the Chozo for saving her life, but she did have questions. For a moment she searched for the words. "I have very few memories after I was found, before waking up in the room back there. I remember being held underwater, or something like water. I saw smoke rising from my body, it was purple in color. I just want to know what it was."

For a moment the Chozo seemed confused. By the way they looked at each other, large multicolored headdresses jingled and swayed until they all reached a conclusion. Angseth wished that she had waited until a more appropriate time to ask.

"_This 'smoke' was Phazon. You had been infected with the Madness. You were at death's door, yet you still managed to summon your ship and cry out to our troops. Your body had been thoroughly saturated with Phazon radiation. Even after our efforts to purify you, some radiation remains. Our scientists are baffled at your ability to move at the moment."_

Angseth sat down again. This was all news to her.

"_Your arm could not be saved. The remnants of your cybernetic leg had to be removed for sanitation purposes. The artificial collarbone in your right shoulder was untouched, and therefore not removed. The scaring on your left shoulder appeared to be an old wound, so it has not been touched."_

Angseth felt a blush come over her cheeks. The heavy scaring on her left shoulder had been caused by Briar during one of their more active lovemaking sessions. Did the Chozo know that? After so many years she didn't embarrass easily. That one little mention did it. Her right collarbone had been replaced years ago when she first test-fired the Sigel-hopefully still tucked away in her ship. Herself and Briar had traveled out to a shooting range on some desert planet that had often been used as a firing range for low and high-quality ballistics. At the time she felt that she had been conservative, setting up a large sheet of alloy against a hill of gravel. Both to test the Sigel's range and spread of its shots. Briar had been standing roughly twenty behind her when she stood, braced her feet and looked down the sight of that gun for the first time. When she had fired, the kick back of the Sigel broke her collarbone, and sent her airborne. She sailed twenty feet, slammed into Briar, and continued traveling with him another one hundred feet before both of them hit the ground, rolled ass over head and eventually skidded to a stop. The shot itself had gone stray, slammed through several large piles of gravel, then tore the arm clean off some experimental mechanized power armor almost a mile away. Briar had pulled her to her feet, then both of them hauled ass out of there, laughing the entire time.

Angseth brought her attention back to present.

Green spoke again. _"What do you know of our Hatchling?"_

"Only what I have told you."

"_We have not heard from the Hatchling in many years, this is the first time any outsider has given us any information about him. That alone was enough to buy your life. There had also been the warrant for your arrest. We are bound by treaty to surrender any fugitive."_

Angseth sighed. "I cannot speak against the treaty, but if I am surrendered, may I request to be returned to Admiral Mizzen? Mirson is likely to shoot me on sight."

"_Why do you feel this way?"_

"I have evidence that could get him in a lot of trouble."

"_Was it upon his orders that the Hatchling was taken into custody?"_

"I have reason to believe so."

"_Why?"_

"I am not at liberty to say at the moment." Angseth hoped that they wouldn't pursue this line of questioning. Not that she wouldn't answer them, but she would feel more comfortable after being briefed by Admiral Mizzen. "I had hoped to find that information in the file."

Blue thought for a moment, then asked, _"Samus gave the file to you, with no instruction, no orders, no indication as to what should be done with it?"_

"Nothing at all." Vera's gaze darted between the three of them, she didn't like the silence. "Why? What was in it?"

Red stood, his long robes pooled around his ankles. _"We must discuss this among ourselves. Please return the Marine to his room."_

_His?_ Angseth stood as the two other Chozo flanked her, and began to lead her out of the room. She bit back panic, and tried to reason away her fears. Chozo were known for their respect of law, and they would return her to Mirson, the one who issued the warrant. Mirson wouldn't be kind. Even though none of these fears were entirely founded. Angseth was more afraid of lack of knowledge about this situation, than if they had just told her fate.

"_Please follow."_

Angseth cast one last glance over her shoulder. Her eyes met Reds soulful orbs. In that one glance she relaxed. She would not go back to Mirson.

* * *

Back in her room, Angseth found a small hover table with a tray of food. Her escorts left, each one rolling silently away from wherever they had come. Vera walked over to the table, and downed the glass of water in one gulp. She felt thirsty, very thirsty. She hadn't noticed it before because she had felt threatened and under stress. On the tray sat two bowls, one filled with golf-ball sized lumps, pale green in color. The other contained meat, lightly seared and as her nose told her, heavily spiced. Vera poured herself another glass of water and sat down on the basket, pulling the hover table closer. She suddenly realized that she hadn't eaten anything in over forty-eight hours, maybe even longer. She had also lost a lot of blood back there on the Phendrana Drifts. For some reason the food didn't interest her as much as the water.

_ I need to at least eat something._

She drank more water, savoring the flavor. The water tasted so very good. Vera couldn't detect the slightest hint of chemicals; it tasted and felt as fresh and pure as water should be. After her second glass, she finally turned her attention to the food. She picked up a small fork and stabbed one of green balls. It reminded her of some over-sized pea. It had a soft rind on the outside that tore as she lifted it. Inside was a darker green ball. Hesitantly, Vera took a bite.

_ It tastes like boiled soybeans, like Edamame._

At least it didn't taste as foreign as it looked. Vera helped herself to another, and then turned her attention to the meat. She picked up a piece and nibbled it. The texture was…off. It wasn't like any other meat she had ever eaten. Was it even meat? Or was it some kind of dried vegetable? She had no idea what it was, but it tasted great.

_ I'd probably pay a lot of money for a dish like this in a Confederate eatery._

For once the water didn't take center stage. Once she had tasted everything, Angseth dug in with gusto. The food was finished off all too quickly. Once again she reached for the water and finished off the pitcher. After eating she made a lap around her room, inspecting the walls trying not to dwell too much on her fate. Her memories of Tallon IV were still fuzzy. Had she really shot off her own arm?

_ The Chozo don't appear to be a threat to me at the moment. I do want to get back to the Mabus, if that's even permitted now. I can't shake the feeling that Briar may be in trouble. I need to call him and see if he's okay._

She sat down again, and looked at the empty pitcher of water. She should have rationed it.

_ Okay, now I'm bored._

* * *

Vera wasn't sure exactly how long she spent bouncing off the walls in this room before another sphere appeared at her feet. The room was just as smooth and uninteresting as the inside of an egg. Angseth even thought that she could amuse herself for a while looking for a seam of the doorway in the wall. Nothing. This lead her to believe that the door was one solid piece of the wall that would break down at the molecular level, then reformed as they left. Made sense. Can't break a lock on a door if there is no door. If they could render their own body mass down to the size of a beach ball, then non-living objects must be no challenge at all.

She was also trying her best not to focus too much on her missing arm. It had taken her months to get over the loss of her leg. Which brought about another thought. If a limb is gone, is it still considered missing if you know damn well what happened to it? Her leg had been cremated. She kept it in a little jar on her desk, nice conversation piece. Her own arm, as far as she knew, was still pinned between the now decomposing jaws of that Sheegoth. Perhaps some explorers in the future would come across the fossil and have themselves a good laugh over it. Maybe her arm would be mistaken for some odd variety of fish.

The thought caused her to giggle again, little girl fashion. Her mother would have said that it was very unbecoming of a woman in her mid-forties. Briar called it her "nervous giggle". A kind of high-pitched squeak that was muffled by her closed mouth, and/or hand, sleeve, random wall or unfortunate sentient being. Yes, she knew that she only giggled like this when she was nervous, and trying to relax herself. No wonder so many people stayed away from her in basic training. Before joining the Marines she had never held a gun before in her life. The first time a power rifle dropped into her hands she tried to hold back the nervous giggles, and eventually turned her com off to avoid disturbing those around her. Turned out that she was a natural with a weapon.

The giggles eventually turned to tears. She wasn't full out crying, but the traitorous drops of water crept from her eyes. Yes, she was now without two limbs, and it would cost her everything to replace them. For the moment she rolled over in the basket, and stared at the button in the ceiling.

The giggle fit had been at least an hour ago. At the moment Angseth amused herself by grabbing up feathers from the basket and sorting them by color. The feathers were all colors of the rainbow, leading her to think that they were artificial. This time the sphere that rolled into the room from nowhere wasn't the blue one with the flames, this one was red colored, with some intricate design engraved in its surface. Angseth looked up from a pile of blue feathers. She had been wondering if she should take the extra step and separate the different hues of blue when she heard the sphere enter. She peeked over the edge of the basket and looked down at the red ball.

"Hey, I thought I told you guys to knock from now on." Vera pulled herself from the feathers, and slid out of the basket. The now familiar glow came over the joints in the ball, then with the same cracking noise, another Chozo stood before her.

This one didn't wear blue, but red armor, this time without the helmet. This was the first time she had the opportunity to get a good look at a Chozo that hadn't been heavily decorated or covered in armor. The Chozo were bird-like, but that still didn't quite explain it. Small round eyes, framed with white feathers. They had beaks, and their beaks varied as much as the different species of birds on Earth had. The one standing before her had a beak much like that of a sparrow or swallow. Small, yet precise. However this is where all the bird similarities ended. This one had a mask of green and white feathers around its eyes, as well as a feathered crest that swept back from the crown of its head. The power armor covered the rest of its body, yet when it moved its head from side to side, Angseth could make out scales peeking out from the power armor. She remembered Confederation records mentioning feathers as part of Chozo physiology, but not shiny gem-like scales.

The Chozo before her lifted its right hand and covered its heart, while the left hand made more complex gestures and signs in the air.

_ "Please follow me."_

Vera took a step, then noticed another ball behind her. _How do they do that? Teleportation? Gotta be teleportation._ She followed, trying not to look back at the ball rolling just shy of her heels.

This time she was led through a different set of halls, all still smooth like the inside of a seashell. Vera could imagine a hoard of these little gumballs rolling through these halls at top speed in one big multicolored mass. The thought brought a smile to her face, yet terrified her at the same time. She couldn't think of any tactic to fend off an attack like that. _Maybe a really big golf club._ She snorted, and brought her hand up to cover her mouth to stem off the giggles.

Her two escorts left her standing before a definite doorway. The door was outlined in gold-colored metal, twisted into complex shapes, which seemed to hold some kind of meaning. The signs and symbols seemed too deliberate for just decoration. The space inside the symbols was another door like all the others she had encountered. Cream-colored and seemingly a part of the wall. The dominant color here seemed to be red. Red paint, red stones, and red gem-like pieces decorated the symbols.

As Vera stood admiring the doorframe, the door itself melted away. Light poured over her and she gasped.

Before Angseth had no clear grasp of her exact surroundings, no sense of place or purpose of her room. Now she could see her surroundings, and make sense of all of them. The room before her was large yet modest. The walls were painted light tan, with numerous symbols carved into them. The floor was covered in what seemed to be a red-colored rug. It didn't seem much like carpeting, but more like a giant woven grass mat. More of those odd gel-like cubes had been placed in random areas of the room, creating places to sit. In the center of the room, a structure that could only be described as a desk stood. Holo screens flickered at all locations of the room. Seated behind the desk was Red. Angseth had taken to calling him Big Red in her mind. The Chozo were a tall race. Red seemed to have both height and girth. Big Red's intricate headdress had been removed and placed in a stasis field to the right of the desk.

All of these things were unique and wonderful, however it wasn't the items, or even Big Red himself that attracted her attention. The entire rear area of the room from floor to ceiling seemed to have been sliced away, providing a tremendous view.

Angseth was on a ship, a very big ship. From this point she could see continents and vegetation extend for miles beyond the window. The horizon even curved, a hint of blue atmosphere glowed at the edges of trees and buildings. Within this vast growth stretched silver rivers, lakes, cities, temples, and near the edge of her vision, even a desert. This office hovered above all of this life, darkness and stars pulled at the edges of the window, framing all of the wonders below her.

_ I had always heard rumors of these great ships. But I had never had the opportunity to see one._

_ "Captain?"_

Vera tore her gaze away from the view, and focused her attention back into the room. Big Red had stepped from behind his desk and motioned with his right hand for Angseth to come forward.

_ "Captain Angseth, I have some news for you."_

Vera walked toward the desk, then stopped suddenly. She had walked right into a holo-conference. Around her she saw several holo screens hovering around her, some depicted unfamiliar Chozo, others were blank placeholders. She felt as if she were standing in a circle of people and also knew that elsewhere; her own image would be displayed on holo-screens somewhere across the cosmos. Angseth just prayed that she wouldn't be wearing hospital scrubs in those holos. As soon as she stepped into the ring, she snapped to attention. There came a familiar voice behind her, low and deep, as if some god were bellowing from the inner reaches of a dark cave.

"ANG-SETH!"

Vera involuntarily tilted her head to her side, and her hand immediately went to the small of her back as she turned to face the holo screen.

"I called it didn't I? I knew this meeting would be about you. What kind of hunch did you follow this time? What little space fairy popped onto your head and said 'Vera, per-haps it would be fun to get lost on Tallon IV and have the Chozo come and rescue us' Do you have such a sprite living in your head Captain? Why are you standing there Captain? Why are you standing THERE instead of the bridge of your SHIP? Did you have another lapse of sanity Captain? SPEAK."

Angseth resisted the urge to rub her ears. She instead called out. "I was unaware of this meeting SIR!"

Big Red's computerized translated voice cut through the tension. _"Captain Angseth, is this your commanding officer?"_

"Yes. Admiral Mizzen."

Admiral Mizzen's voice boomed through the com once more. Angseth noted that even with their advanced technology, the Chozo interface system still struggled with Mizzen's voice. "At ease Captain. You've already ruined my day, don't make it any harder than it already is."

Vera's shoulders relaxed. She really wanted to sit down.

"Now that all parties are present, lets get this over with. Angseth, keep your pie-hole shut until I ask you something. Can you manage that for ten minutes, or do I need to ask this fine gentleman here to get some extra help to restrain you?"

Vera had to struggle to keep a smile at bay. Admiral Mizzen was one of those military types that seemed to get too caught up in the role. New recruits found him impossible to cope with, but Angseth learned years ago that if one just sat and listened to him, what he said was actually damn amusing. The sad thing was that most people didn't know how to relax long enough to just play along.

Admiral Mizzen was an intimidating figure. He was the tallest of all the System Admirals, and the biggest. To Angseth he resembled a dragon, some big red and orange fire-breathing lizard. He didn't actually breathe fire, but he did have red scale-covered skin, complete with an orange horned crest framing his head. No matter how many times she had been in his office, Angseth still had trouble meeting his dark purple eyes, ever since that first time she dared to look into them.

Big Red spoke. _"This meeting has been called in regards to the extradition of Captain Angseth."_

Mizzen appeared genuinely surprised. "Extradite? What did she do wrong now?"

_ "As I have already explained, Captain Angseth had been apprehended on the surface of Tallon IV. She had received life-threatening wounds from fighting the wildlife,"_

"Sounds like something she would do."

_ "-We have nursed her back to health, and discovered that Admiral Mirson had issued a warrant for her arrest. However, since you are her Commanding Officer. . ."_

Mizzen seemed to chew on this for a moment. First off, the Chozo didn't apprehend _anyone_, wounded or not. However Mizzen knew the rules and regulations enough to see that the Chozo had left him a loophole. Angseth read this thought as it crossed his features. She knew how he felt. She didn't like getting funneled anywhere either. They would just have to trust the Chozo for a moment, and hopefully they wouldn't make them eat too many of their own words. Finally Mizzen said.

"I was not aware of any such warrant, on what grounds had it been issued?"

Red pulled up a file. _"I am now sending you a copy of what we had received."_

Mizzen read it aloud. "Captain Mervera Diane Angseth—That's you—is wanted as a suspect and for questioning in the atmospherical disruption of planet FQ3-59. She is also wanted for aiding a known and wanted criminal. She is to be considered armed and very dangerous. Angseth was last seen in her fighter—Vera what is this?" He set heavy purple eyes on Angseth.

"I have never heard the warrant sir." She responded flatly. She knew that gaze. Mizzen had pushed all joking aside and was now dead serious.

Admiral Mizzen rubbed his forehead and then said. "Mervera, I want you to tell me everything. Everything that had happened since you first set foot on Syren1."

Angseth looked at Big Red and the other silent Chozo faces. "In present company sir?"

"Especially in present company."

She couldn't argue with that, or with Mizzen, it would do her no good. Vera drew in a deep breath, and began talking. She spoke of the wedding, Thomas and Svenson, her new orders, her suspicions, the _Seattle_. Here she needed to repeat herself several times when it came to her encounter with the pirates, and the Hunter. She left no stone unturned, and they spent a good three or four hours questioning her about FQ3-59. Angseth hoped her audiences weren't too skeptical. It all sounded unrealistic in this telling. Her memory slowly came back to her as she spoke about Tallon IV and how she came there. However she didn't mention the Bounty Hunter Weavel. She knew that she should have, she had orders to, but some little voice in the back of her mind stopped her from even hinting at his name for the moment.

Mizzen became silent for a long time after Angseth had finished. Big Red came over and offered her a glass of water, which she drank eagerly. Earlier Red had levitated one of the cubes over for her to sit on. Vera had finished off a second glass when she noticed Mizzen watching her. He waited until she had set the drink down before speaking again.

"Let me see your right arm Vera."

Angseth stood and rolled up the sleeve, exposing the bruised stump. She could see his purple eyes darting around, examining the wound; finally he slowly nodded, then leaned back in his seat. Angseth let the sleeve fall loose again. The Admiral focused his attention on Big Red.

"We have a serious problem here."

_ "Indeed we do. Aran is a member of the Chozo. We do not appreciate our people getting arrested without good reason."_

"I understand, however I personally cannot overstep Mirson's authority to get Aran back."

_ "Perhaps an arrangement can be made?"_

Mizzen weighed his options. "Captain Angseth."

"Sir." She answered

"How badly do you want your hero back?"

"Sir, I owe her my life."

Mizzen's voice suddenly dropped an octave. Angseth knew that tone had the ability to shake objects and people he happened to be in the same room with. She had always liked that voice.

"Captain Mervera Angseth."

"Sir."

"I am removing you from your post aboard the _Mabus_ temporarily. Lieutenant Commander Nevada Briar will take your place. Your new assignment will be aboard the Chozo colony ship _Araia_ to assist their forces in recovering one of their own-since you have first-hand experience. Chairman Arashe, please use this little firecracker wisely. She is now officially under your command. Beat her if she misbehaves. You hear me, flog her until she is within an inch of her life begging for mercy from the heavens."

Big Red bowed deeply, with surprising grace. _"Thank you for this most generous gift Admiral."_

_ Gift?_ The word stuck in Angseth's mind. The Chozo didn't need her, they had plenty of their own…unless Mizzen was trying to gain some leverage in the Chozo community. Since she had been officially posted here, Mizzen now allied himself with the Chozo, and by accepting her, they had allied themselves with him.

_ I hate being used as collateral._

"Vera." Mizzen said as he noticed her expression, caught between a pout and disgust. "Don't go off and do something half-cocked like you've been prone to do. Let me handle this."

"…sir."

"What was that Marine?"

Angseth corrected "YES SIR!"

Big Red, his name now known as Arashe, smiled gently.

"Be good Mervera, I mean it." Mizzens final words were fatherly in tone.

Angseth began to let go of a breath she didn't know she had been holding as the holo faded.

_ "My what a friendly soul."_ Arashe commented. _"Are you sure you wouldn't have preferred Admiral Mirson?"_

Angseth paused, the words still sinking in. She smiled, and tried to cover it with the back of her hand. _Stop it, you're old enough to have gained control of the giggles by now._

_ "Dear me child, what have I done?"_

She held in the giggles until her face turned red and they became replaced by hiccups. When she woke up this morning she thought that she would be dead by nightfall. Her new post was almost as bad. She was terrible at Public Relations.

Arashe had settled into his seat, and Vera took the opportunity to sit down again. Arashe held out a glass of water and Angseth took it. The hiccups faded. Next would be the tears. She could at least hold out on those.

_ "Prison cells simply wont do for an ambassador of the Confederation. We shall remedy that."_

Angseth covered her face with her hand. She wanted to sleep. She just wanted to curl up in her bed aboard her ship, next to Briars fuzzy body and sleep.

_ "Vera,"_ Arashe held out a handkerchief. _"Relax. You're safe now. Mizzen just ensured that. You have been through quite a bit."_

Angseth looked up at the Chozo, her hand trembled and she struggled to hold the small square of fabric. "Thank You."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11:**

Angseth had expected a room, in a compound, or even on some far wing of an outcropping of some space station. Four walls, a bed, and maybe something to store her items in. This wasn't a room. This was a house Arashe pointed out the different areas and their purposes. Angseth could figure out the rest for herself. In theory she could see herself staying here. But she had no idea that they would spoil her so much.

True to his word, Arashe had transferred her away from the prison sector, and she was given a fully furnished home on the surface of Agharta, the first layer of landmass that she had viewed from Areshe's office. Agharta had everything that one required of a colony ship, although colony wasn't quite the right phrase. The Chozo lived on these ships. They conducted all of their business from the ships, and they claimed no home world.

After crying her eyes out for the third time that day in Arashe's office, the Chozo had helped her to calm down by offering her some tea. The tea did help to calm her nerves a bit, and he immediately called for an escort to lead her to the transport vessels. By this point, Angseth had no idea what kind of strange device to expect. She honestly thought that they would just teleport her to whatever destination they had in mind. Arashe had joined her in this little bubble thing that floated down to the surface continent known as Agharta. It was then that she had the opportunity to get a good look at her new surroundings.

Once on the surface it was impossible to tell that she was on a ship. The sky was blue, and the land had been covered in all manner of plant life. Everywhere small paved stone trails cut through the forest or along rivers, over simple wooden bridges and toward temples and other structures. Everyone here had an alternate Morph Ball form. Angseth occasionally saw Chozo walking or talking to each other, but mostly everyone rolled along the paths, each contained inside their own little multicolored spheres.

The bubble-like transport came to a halt near one of the lakes Angseth had seen from Arashe's office. He helped her out of the transport, and they stood before a wall seemingly made of trees that had been woven and twisted together. She could see an opening in the trees, and beyond it, her new living quarters.

This wasn't just a house, but three small buildings, arranged in a triangular shape, creating a space in the middle that contained a small garden complete with pond and waterfall. The structures stood off the ground, built on thick poles, much like traditional homes found on Earth in the Nippon Empire. They had sliding screens that separated the interior spaces made of a flat surface that acted like a hologram. She would notice later that the design on the screen changed as the day wore on. The first building served as a living space, complete with a small kitchen that included a replicator. The second building served as her office space. The communication systems were familiar, but like everything else here, more advanced. The third building would serve as her bedroom. It had been furnished with a bed much like the one on her ship, a small low dresser, and nightstand.

_ "These are your living quarters now, and in possible subsequent visits,"_ Arashe said through the translating device as he pushed open one of the screens. The inside had a wooden floor covered in large woven reed mats that were light green in color. Angseth noticed something to her right.

The Sigel had been placed on display in a stasis field. It had been cleaned up, with a round of clips hovering underneath it. Angseth felt her mouth drop, unaware of how the Chozo would have reacted to the banned technology locked away in a hidden compartment in her fighter. She brought her hand up and ran it through her hair. "I see you found my Sigel."

_ "Oh yes,"_ Arashe turned to her with a smile. _"We assumed that it was standard issue for all Confederate Captains."_

Vera felt a smile come over her. Arashe knew damn well that weapon was banned, but was allowing her to keep it. She breathed a sigh of relief and began to explore the rest of the home. One of the first things she noticed were all the plants in the dwelling. They decorated every room and grew from almost every corner of the building. The pool in the garden turned out to be heated, which led her to believe that it was to be used for a bath. Arashe confirmed her theory, and Vera began to grow excited, She hadn't had a decent bath in such a long time-at least not one with real water. The home was pleasant, save for the fact that she had to bob and weave her way through all the plant life. She still wore the scrubs she had put on earlier that day, no shoes, and the prosthetic leg thumping along with her.

Her bedroom contained a sliding screen that lead out to a wooden deck. There were even more plants out here, and a stunning view of the lake. Angseth was feeling less and less like she was in the hands of an alien race, and more like she had been looking at a vacation home on some distant planet. She looked up at the wide expanse of blue over her head.

_ But its not a sky, its an artificial atmosphere, _she looked across the horizon; clouds seemed to gather toward the east. _It probably rains in here too. What a wonderful place. Why would Aran want to leave all of this behind?_

Arashe stepped up behind her _"Do you like your new living quarters?"_

"Yes I do, its much more than I had expected," Angseth turned to look up at him. "I can't thank you enough."

_ "You will have two servants at your call. They will be here within the hour with fresh clothes and food. You will have limited access to the data banks on the Araia. The things that are mainly off-limits are our technology files and migration routes. All others __should be free. Even the documentation on our Hatchling,"_ Arashe said with a smile. _"The computer systems have been calibrated for a distant transmission channel. You will be able to communicate with the Mabus. Do you have any other family that you wish to speak to? I can have the systems calibrated for their location. Perhaps your mother and father?"_

At that Angseth's smile faded. She hadn't thought about her mother or father in years. For a moment she studied the horizon, at the ripples of the artificial sun off the lakes surface. "You won't need to. My parents were killed during the Pirate raids on the Isrec mining rings years ago."

Arashe crossed both of his hands over his heart, and bowed. _"Forgive me, I did not know."_

"Not many people do. The Isrec rings aren't really productive enough to make news. It was no more than a footnote on some report I read."

Vera spent a moment in silence. She had shed those tears years ago. Not only had the Pirates raided the colony for all useable ores and minerals, but they had also kidnapped a good majority of the people for whatever purposes. She still held the hope that one day she would encounter her parents somewhere in the slave trade. She hadn't felt that hope much in later years.

_ "I will leave you to grow accustomed to your new surroundings."_

Angseth nodded, and saw Arashe to the door. She closed the screen after he left, then looked over at the Sigel. Her duffle bag had also been placed in the main room. Her fighter was the only thing missing from her personal possessions. She collected her duffle and shuffled into her bedroom, then glanced up the small hallway toward her office space.

Vera quickly closed the space, then sat down before the holo screens. Her left hand ran over the keys, occasionally stumbling over letters and buttons. She almost sobbed when the call went through.

* * *

"The _Socrates_ has released another probe."

Lieutenant Briar leaned closer to her holo, knowing that it wouldn't do much good, force of habit mostly. "How many probes do they intend to send down there?"

"We've registered ten so far."

Briar settled back into his seat,

_ Angseth's seat, not mine._

and steepled his fingers. The probes seemed to be a bit of a stretch for a data-gathering mission. He would guess ten probes for possible colonization, but not a data run. Briar filed this away in the back of his mind under "interesting", but said nothing more of it. Things had been fairly routine thus far, however there had not been any transmission from Admiral Mirson about further orders. SR3-88 had become a bit of a downer. A big dead brown and gray planet that the scientists picked at as if it were the giant fossil of some beast. Ten probes.

Then again, the _Socrates_ had been pretty loaded when he had visited. Maybe they were ditching some excess weight? Briar pondered this as he announced that he was retiring for the night, then pushed away from his floating chair,

_ her chair_

and guided his body to the door. Perhaps tomorrow morning he would dump his mental "interesting" bin and see if any random puzzle pieces matched up. He didn't trust either Svenson or Thomas. The scientist had seemed eager to start on the dirt ball. If there was anything left alive down there, Svenson seemed determined to find it.

What if that paranoid goof _did_ manage to find some of the last strands of "X"? In that case Briar didn't want the _Mabus_ anywhere near the planet, and in the event that it did infect his crew, could he find it in his heart to slam the _Mabus_ into the planet in the hopes that he could destroy it? It seemed to be a violent solution to the problem, and it wasn't even entirely effective the last time Someone Who Will Not Be Named Again tried it.

He stopped. Nevada had missed his room entirely. He shook his head and turned around, his tail lifting from the floor. Vera would have playfully smacked him and told him to wake up.

Like the layout of Angseth's quarters, the first thing he encountered through the door of his room was an office space. A large desk stood in the center, decorated with various objects of his travels. Briar had noticed that no matter where he went, beings of all races had something that resembled an office. A sacred place to pray to the gods of order and commerce. Offerings of paper and information were presented to the gods regularly, and the worshipers referred to the holo screens like some all-seeing oracle to determine if the gods had heard their prayers.

_ "Lieutenant Briar?"_

"Yes?" By habit he looked to the speakers on his desk. They were little things, unnoticed by many.

_ "There is call on your private line."_

"Thank you. I'll take it in here." Nevada sat down behind his desk. Speaking of gods, that was probably Mirson extending their sentence. He scratched his eye ridges, then turned his feline eyes toward the screen, and highlighted the bar that read, "Accept".

_ "Nevada?"_ Came a welcome voice, and even more welcome features.

"Vera!" He leaned forward, excitement leaping into his chest.

Angseth was at a loss for words for a moment, looking away and wiping at her eyes with her left hand. _"Hi…how have you been?"_

Briar however was at no loss for desired information. "What happened? Where are you? Are you okay? Why didn't you contact me sooner?!"

_ "I…I can answer a few of those, but I'm afraid the rest are…confidential."_

Nevada paused, absorbing her words. "Shit. You were reassigned."

Vera nodded.

Nevada knew that it would be useless to ask questions about "where" and "how long". Reassignment was a common military practice. Suddenly a loved one went away, and the only information their suffering family received was a brief call explaining that their loved one was alive well, and coming home soon. Sometimes "soon" meant twenty-four hours, and sometimes it meant years.

The look had also returned to his mates eyes. She had seen the far side of hell again and somehow managed to stumble back. So much was said in that one glance. The bin labeled "interesting" in the back of his mind suddenly dropped to the floor as if Vera had come over and kicked the thing into its side, sending pieces and fragments sliding over the workspace of his mind. The pieces drew together as if by some magnetic force. Vera's next words made his blood run cold.

_ "Admiral Mizzen will be in touch with you shortly in regards to your new orders,"_ her lips said one thing, but her eyes said entirely another. Her eyes told him that this was going to get a lot worse before it got any better.

_ …have been assigned to guard Svenson's vessel and proposed research facility on the planets surface.._ Words from Mirson's briefing ran through Briars mind. Another thought formed behind that. Ten probes. That was too excessive for research purposes. Ten probes perhaps spaced out over an amount of time, but not one after another successively. Taking into consideration what he had seen on the _Socrates_, this wasn't a research mission. No, given his own experience in the field, these were supplies for a base of some kind. They weren't probes at all, but units designed to deliver materials to the planets surface. No actual hard evidence, but from the sheer number of the probes…and the size of them.

_ "I love you Briar. I will try to be with you as soon as I can."_

"I love you too Vera." His hand lifted to touch her cheek, but stopped when his hand disrupted the holo field. "There have always been forces bigger than ourselves, yet we have always survived."

Vera nodded, her dark brown eyes fixing on his. Nevada felt his heart and arms ache, he just wanted to hold her again, feel her tiny heart beat against his chest and lick the sweat and tears off her cheek.

_ "Bye Nevada."_

"Goodbye Vera."

The holo screens faded, and Briar leaned his head against his desk. The fang Angseth had given him slipped out of his collar and dangled from his neck. He watched it sway for a moment before lifting his head and activating the com. "Serec?"

_ "Yeah Briar?"_

"Please meet me in cargo bay hold 15F."

_ "If you had wanted to check out the odd piece of cargo, it's too late."_ Serec responded. _"They picked that thing up yesterday."_

* * *

Briars image left the holo screen. Angseth rested her head on the edge of the table in her office space, the fang falling out of her shirt and dangled before her. She was completely unaware, but wouldn't be surprised if someone had told her that Briar was currently sitting in the same position over half a galaxy away. Vera slowly looked up to observe her alien surroundings, suddenly overwhelmed with the immensity of her situation. Getting overwhelmed wasn't in her nature, and she hated the tears that crept from her eyes. How dare they expose her weaknesses? How dare they escape so soon after being locked away in their dark closets? Tears of pain were welcome. Tears of desperation or of sheer stress were not. Anything that made her seem weak she had worked to lock away. Anything that could betray her standing among humans had been pushed to the deepest part of her mind. Still the tears crept, seeping from crushed dreams and lost friends like a fine distilled fluid.

_ Now is not the time to have a nervous breakdown. Not in this place, not this far away from. . ._

Civilization is what she wanted to say, but that itself was a joke. The Chozo were one of the oldest races in the Five Galaxies and beyond. If there was civilization to be had, it was here.

She stood and shuffled into the bedroom. For a moment she stood before that large feather-stuffed bed, and felt her leg give. Her body hit the mattress, and her tears wet the soft pillows. Screw it, she would go ahead and cry. Cry for her arm, cry for Briar, and cry for Samus, all because she had been too much of a little scared bitch to help her.

_ That wasn't Aran. . .Not anymore._

Vera kicked and felt the prosthetic fall to the floor. The bed was soft and this damn crying fit had been a long time coming.

* * *

The stimulants had been gotten, and she had acquired, then wrecked yet another jet pack. The air on Aether seemed to be getting clearer, and most of the dangerous critters were easily avoided or disposed of. Most of them seemed to run when she entered their lairs or stomping grounds anyway. Almost as if they recognized her as another predator or some scavenger that killed weaker creatures. Part of her mind told her that was the probably the case, although she felt that the only reason she didn't encounter very many creatures was that Aran had killed them all.

Speaking of which; where the hell had Aran gone now? Angseth scanned the horizon and all the likely areas that she thought Aran might have visited at one point. Vera's power suit had been patched together so many times it now looked like some grade school wielding project. Currently she had more stimulants and painkillers running through her system than she was sure were healthy for any living creature. Vera would be quite surprised if she made it out of this without gaining any new addictions.

Samus once again had vanished. The Hunter was now clad in a suit that looked as if it had been made from liquid mercury, and just as slippery. The Marine couldn't seem to get a good bead on Aran's location. Not to mention that the Hunter moved damn fast, whether in her Morph Ball form or just running. How did anyone have that much stamina? Angseth had prided herself in performing a five-mile run while wearing her power suit, but she couldn't compete with Aran. After a while Angseth had given up trying to track her. She might as well have tried to catch the wind.

Already Vera had run through most of the areas that she could reach. Some places were just plain inaccessible. For a long time she had avoided all areas near the Pirate base. If she was having trouble fighting off wildlife, then she didn't want to fight trained killers. Now she felt almost obligated to go and investigate since those bastards were the reason why she and her now deceased comrades ended up on this god-forsaken planet in the first place. Part of her wanted to explore, another part screamed for back-up that was no longer living. All of her teammates had been killed. Each of their names highlighted in red on her HUD. Every last one. People she had spent her life with, shared a few of her more intimate secrets with. For all intents and purposes, this crew had been her family. No, she couldn't get lost in the past now, she would save the tears and pain for some other time.

Angseth stood near the entrance to what she guessed would be an expansive Pirate compound. Aran had already been here. No big surprise there, but damn the woman left quite a mess behind her. Strewn hither and yon were dead pirates. Some neatly shot in the head, others reduced to a paste, almost as if the molecules in their body had been vibrated at such a high frequency that they lost all structural integrity. At the moment Vera could care less about avenging her dead crewmembers, she was honestly too tired to even think about it, but she knew that the Pirates would have supplies. Hell, maybe they would have some spare suits lying around that she could use. Anything would be better than what she was wearing. Since Aran had already been through here, Vera didn't expect much resistance.

She walked along the outside wall until she came to a convenient hole. Some kind of even heavy arms fire or mine had caused this crack, and almost compromised the whole side of the compound. Quiet as a mouse, Vera slipped inside, and flipped through her scanners until she came to night vision. As expected the interior was dark, and stank. The stench of the dead mingled with the scent of bodily fluids and other chemicals present in the air. The air was also disturbingly still compared to the dust storm outside. Dirt had gathered near the entrance, blown in by fierce winds. Angseth felt her feet slip for a moment before her boots gained a grip on the corrugated floor. She calmly began to walk up the hall toward the flickering light of computer screens beyond.

Every room she came to held more death. Mostly pirates, some local fauna, other scavengers like herself. Somewhere deeper inside the base she could hear disjointed sounds. Maybe the dying whines of some piece of machinery, or perhaps even the prolonged death throes of some creature. Angseth felt no fear as she moved through the halls, opening doors and investigating rooms for anything that could be salvageable. The computer banks held no interest for her; she couldn't read what was on them anyway. Right now she was only interested in medical packs and any useable technology that Aran hadn't already stripped. Vera even began kicking over the bodies of the dead, searching them for anything of value.

The hall eventually opened wider, until she stood on a platform over a pit of darkness. Her scanners indicated a large room below her, containing many pieces of technology, computers, and interestingly enough, one very large holo projector depicting a detailed map of all the planets in this system cluster. Vera searched until she could find a way down. At the moment she didn't care too much about getting back up, she could worry about that later. She climbed down some fallen scaffolding and stood on the base level. More dead bodies and more of that horrible stench, still nothing useable.

Movement suddenly registered out of the corner of her eye. Angseth swung around and aimed her rifle toward her right. Samus stood there, once again her armor having changed to another color and hue. Apparently somewhere along the line she had dropped the silver armor for this darker version. The plating was hard. Purple and black in places then dark blue in others. Underlying the panels and plates was a blue light, seeping from her eyes and arm cannon. Across her chest and shoulders the blue and black light gave an intricate interplay revealing the underlying artificial muscle tone.

Samus stood there for a moment, regarding Angseth curiously, almost as if she had never seen her before.

"Its just you," Angseth said, her throat dry. She lowered her weapon, and then slid it back into place on her back.

Samus' head tilted to the side, then back, almost as is she were staring at Angseth down the line of her cheek. After a moment she turned, then began heading for a glowing piece of wall. At first Angseth had dismissed it as some exposed flickering wiring, but now that she actually focused on the section of wall, she began to realize that it wasn't a blown holo panel after all, but another one of those portals that Aran had been jumping in and out of for the past forty-eight hours. Once again Aran began heading toward the portal. And this time Angseth had enough.

"Goddammit. I have been chasing your ass all over this damned planet and you still wont pause for long enough to give me a straight answer! Why do you keep leaving me? Huh? Marines are not supposed to leave others! I know you're a bounty hunter, but hey! Come back dammit!"

Samus didn't even so much as look back, she continued walking directly into the portal.

Angseth felt rage overcome her. She was tired, in pain, desperate, afraid and most of all angry. She would pin Samus down to the ground if she had to until she drew some answers out of her. Samus vanished into the portal, and this time Angseth ran right in, a battle cry ripping from her throat.

The sensation was entirely unlike anything she had ever experienced before. It felt like the roughest space jump that she had ever taken, and she didn't handle jumps all that well to begin with. She could feel her entire body getting pulling along, each atom and molecule pulled and then reassembled in a separate three-dimensional space. For a moment she wasn't even aware that her body had stopped moving, or that it had been moving at all. Her scream had been separated from her throat and what remained only sounded like the whimper of a lost child.

The world was dark, slowly she registered one point of light, and as she came to focus on the light she felt reasoning return to her. The light came from a crystal, which had been mounted on a staff. The light cast a circle around her, illuminating purple-colored sands and a world that seemed to have been caved from amethyst. Standing before her, just outside the light, was Samus. Samus now looked back at her almost defensively. Angseth gained her bearings again and stepped forward.

"Look the least you can do is…" Angseth stopped. As soon as her body left the circle of light, a light crackling sound began in her ears. Her entire body suddenly felt as if it had caught fire. Vera fell to her knees and drew her arms in toward her chest, almost as if that would make the pain stop.

_ The atmosphere, the atmosphere is corrosive! I need to get out of here!_

She spun, reaching back for the circle of light, then the crystal suddenly flickered and went out. Samus suddenly stood next to Angseth. Vera shifted her gaze toward Samus' feet. Instead of the familiar boots, she saw toes, actual real toes covered in some thick hide-like skin. As a clawed hand closed around her throat, the thought crossed Angseth's mind that perhaps this wasn't Aran.

Angseth felt her body pulled from the ground. For a moment she peered into two glowing eyes. No, this was not Aran! Vera kicked, and her foot found no target. The claws tightened, and she felt them pierce her armor and sink into her flesh. Something familiar overcame her. Her rage, her anger, her instinct intensified by her need to survive. Something was making it stronger. Something she didn't know how to place.

Her vision began to grow more vivid, the colors of the world around her all the more intense, she could feel and respond to the energy flowing into her body. Blue light engulfed her, pulling at the blood in her veins, saturating every muscle fiber and every cell of her bones. Her hands wrapped around this Aran-creature's arm, and instead of fighting that power, her body instinctively drew upon it. Almost immediately she felt stronger, more energized. For a moment she bathed in that blue light, pulled it around her like some kind of shroud.

The creature, stunned, let go.

Angseth felt her body fall to the ground, but the fall seemed to last for an extraordinary amount of time. Even the constant tick and pop in her ears from the atmosphere chewing into her armor seemed slowed. Vera righted herself and landed on the ground, her body sinking down to all fours. The energy outpouring from her hands and feet caused the dirt around her to stir. Her body had become hyper-alert. Every muscle was now working to its fullest, every cell expending its maximum amount of energy. And everywhere was the blue light. The entire world was alive with all the colors that energy possessed.

She remembered that the adults back in the Isrec mining colonies would speak of times that their bodies had reacted in this very same manner. When in times of stress, they would find that the world had changed to their will. Most attributed it to the gods. Angseth was finding herself attributing it to the blue light spilling forth from this Aran look-alike. She wanted more of that light. She found that her body craved that light to the extent that she craved another shot of stimulants. Was light even the correct term? Angseth sprang, determined to pull more of that light toward her. She had tasted this new drug, and now her body wanted more.

The creature jumped, and began to hover backward, it's bare toes not touching the sand. Angseth chased it deeper into this dark other world, which had many of the same features of Aether, but not quite. The atmosphere creaked and popped in her ears, she could see her armor corroding away, small flecks of it fell away behind her as she ran. Angseth wanted more of that blue light. The blue light enabled her to survive, and she would tear through anything to get it. An instant power rush, and an instant addiction. The creature turned, and fired its weapon at her. Vera was unable to move fast enough and received the full blast directly in her chest. Before she hit the ground, three more shots impacted with her body. She hit the purple sand, her body slid, then began to tumble down a steep trench. She flipped once, her head striking a boulder. She fought the oncoming darkness, unsuccessfully.

* * *

The Araia was big, yet even that seemed to be an understatement. Vera felt that no word in the Standard tongue could describe accurately the enormity of the Araia. A colony ship wasn't the right word to explain it either. Technically, Confederation data banks described a colony ship as a vessel large enough to sustain life for an extended amount of time. But colony ships usually had a destination and the people on the ship would eventually leave and settle on a planet somewhere. An artificial environment that had been meant to hold life for indefinite amounts of time would be considered a _station_. Most stations, were as their namesake implied, stationary. From what little information she had access to, the Chozo ships were not big mechanical beasts, but a collection of landmasses, that were held in place through whatever means they had devised over several epoch of their civilization.

Inside the Araia were no less than three other layers of landmass called Life Spheres, all placed within each other like Russian dolls. Each layer held another set of continents, more cities, and more technology. Preliminary research told her the Araia was the smallest of all the Chozo ships. The largest held over seven layers of Life Spheres. Each level contained its own unique ecosystem, flora and fauna. Hovering around each Life Sphere were smaller ships that contained office spaces, military training facilities, and of course, prisons. One of which Angseth had been in recently. A council, usually consisting of an odd number of members, headed each prison. This helped to ensure that a majority would rule in every decision.

The Chozo spoke in a kind of modified sign language. Thus far her escorts had been kind enough to wear universal translating devices. Angseth soon requested that they not use translation devices except in emergencies. She wanted to pick up the language on her own. The Chozo language required both hands to be used when signing. The right hand, the noun hand, was used to denote the subject, while the left hand was used to convey verbs. Vera was positive that if she studied enough then she could pick up the sign language, then again, there was the matter of her missing arm.

Which brought her to her current problem. After a few days of hobbling around on her prosthetic, she had enough, and began to look for a mechanic. She knew the Chozo had advanced cybernetic technology. The Confederation owed much of their own experience to Chozo tech. Finding a mechanic on the other hand was a little more difficult. She had no idea where to start, who to go to, and most importantly, how much it would cost her.

Arashe assigned two escorts to ensure that she was comfortable. Angseth still didn't know their names per say, but had managed to memorize their hand signals. Since she was unaware of their gender, she picked two androgynous names. Vera called one Jamie, and the other Ryan. Through a little more research, Angseth discovered that the Chozo language didn't have gender specific terms. Much of Chozo dialect didn't translate nicely into Standard, and as she came to understand more, the reason was clear. Standard didn't have room for the complex ideas that the Chozo took as a part of their daily lives. Translating anything into Standard was like trying to explain quantum physics to a Neanderthal.

The Chozo found truth in the soul, and the body was a tool or vessel, the two worked in unison, or not at all. An individual had gender, but this was not the deciding factor of their character. Angseth became sure that outside of mating, they really didn't care. The Chozo word for "one person" was more complex, because they felt that it represented more. Angseth tried creating a direct translation into Standard, and came up with what she felt was the grammatical equivalent of _Pi_. The concept just never ended. Now that she knew that much, she didn't mind that the translating devices always called her "he". It was a lot simpler than what the Chozo really meant.

Of her two escorts, Jamie was the taller. Jamie had light cream-colored feathers, with dark brown eyes surrounded by a bright splash of white, creating a mask around "his" eyes. Jamie seemed to be fond of wearing pastel colors, long flowing wispy ethereal robes that changed color and design depending on what light he stood in. Jamie didn't speak much; he seemed to be mainly the account holder, or even the muscle behind Ryan's actions.

Ryan was shorter and predominately light blue in color, also with a white mask around his eyes. Much to Angseth's delight and dismay, Ryan liked to talk. His hands moved at such a fast pace, that Angseth had given up on trying to follow the conversation. He was also the more vocal, prone to song-like chirps to gain the attention of others. With such a large vocal range, she asked Ryan why he hadn't learned to speak Standard. His answer was simple and insulting. Why should he learn to grunt in a creative manner?

Angseth had settled into a morning routine. She would wake up, head into the main room, meditate for an hour or so, then eat breakfast, usually consisting of fruit and some kind of tea. She did crave a wider variety of food, but hey, beggars couldn't be choosers. The majority of the day was spent searching through the databases on aspects of Chozo culture, and of course studying the language.

Waking up this morning so far didn't prove to be any different. She pulled herself out of the very soft bed, and slipped on the prosthetic. The door in her room that led the balcony had been left cracked open the night before, and early morning light poured in along with the smell of flowers. She stood and dressed in one the nicer causal suits she had been given, then moved through the home to the main room. Waiting on the steps out front was a familiar sphere. Blue in color with the average amount of joints and gold pin striping creating a grid-like effect down the center. Angseth slid the front screen open allowing the ball to roll inside.

The Morph Ball began to glow as she walked past it toward the kitchen. Ryan then followed her to the food replicator.

"_Good morning Ambassador."_

"Morning Ryan. What's on the schedule today?" Vera moved past him, then pulled up a floor cushion and sat on it. She had never held the title of Ambassador before, and quite frankly, she was bored. Not even a week had passed and already she was wishing to be elsewhere. Jamie and Ryan had spent the past few days showing her around Chozo society. Not matter how much they tried to make her feel comfortable, Angseth still felt out of place. At first she had thought the post-traumatic depression had finally kicked in, but that didn't prove to be the case. For the past ten years of her life she had never been allowed the luxury to relax. Her next breath was never promised. Now that things had become considerably slower, she missed the adrenaline rush.

"_Good news Captain. A mechanic has been found that is familiar with human physiology and nervous system. He would like to see you later today."_

Vera sipped her tea. "Sounds good. I've been waiting for that news."

Ryan sat before her, also bearing his own cup of tea. He was oddly quiet, not characteristic for this normally talkative bird.

"Where's Jamie?"

"_I have dismissed him."_

"Why? Did he need the day off?"

Ryan examined Angseth, searching her features. For a moment she could see something familiar in his expression, almost as if she had seen that exact same look on someone else's face before. _"I…felt it would be best to cut as many ties with Arashe as possible."_

"Oh?"

"_To be honest with you, I have not been assigned by Arashe. The High Council chose me to look after your well-being."_

"Am I getting thrust into a political power play?" Angseth asked, taking a bite of her fruit. She hated to be blunt but she didn't want to get into any more trouble than she already was. Forewarned was forearmed.

"_One could say that."_

"Can I at least know why?"

"_I cannot say at the moment."_

Angseth guessed as much.

"_My hands are tied, but the moment I find how it affects you, then I'll let you know,"_ Ryan smiled; his eyes showed his glee more than his lips however. _"You must be excited to receive a new set of limbs."_

"Actually I am."

"_Later this afternoon I will come for you, and we shall see the Doctor together."_

"I don't want anything too flashy. Just this side of functional will do. I don't want to worry about going into a station and getting killed for the sake of spare parts."

"_We will be careful of that. How have you been feeling?"_

"Much better. The pain in my muscles and joints hasn't been flaring up as often anymore."

Ryan paused again, then gracefully gained his feet. _"Might I check my accounts using your computer counsel? I believe I must have left my personal unit at home."_

Angseth noticed that he didn't even wait for her response, just went back into her office area. What the hell was going on now? After a moment Ryan came back out, the smile still gracing his features.

"_I will return to escort you in the afternoon—oh my. I forgot to close out my clearance in the computer. Would you be a dear and do it for me? Bless you child."_

Once again he didn't wait for an answer. Ryan quickly assumed his Morph Ball form then zipped away, leaving Angseth wondering what had gotten into him. She pulled herself to her feet, then went into the office, and gazed at the screen.

"Oh you bastard, what did you do?" Angseth smiled as she sat down.

For the past few days she had been reading up on Chozo history and culture in an attempt to gain any kind of knowledge about her new post. On more than one occasion, her limited clearance didn't allow her to pursue any further study. There had been one glyph that she had been unable to find a meaning for. It seemed to her like two feathered snakes trying to eat each other, like an Ouroboros. Ryan had just given her a free pass into the depths of anything she ever wanted to know about the Chozo. She had nothing else to kill an afternoon with, so this was as welcome a distraction as any. After a following a few tangents, she had her answers. For a moment Angseth leaned back in her chair, her eyes darkened.

"Oh Ryan, what have you pulled me into?"

The Chozo were an ancient race, this much she knew. The Confederation revered them with almost god-like respect. There was no corner of the universe that the Chozo did not know, no technology unexplored. Chozo wasn't even the name of their race. The first explorers from Earth that had stumbled across their temples hailed from the Nippon Empire. The name Chozo had been derived from the fact they found statues of bird people everywhere. In that tongue, Chozo meant "bird statue". With all this information Angseth had no idea that the Chozo could be anything but benevolent. With this new information, she now knew otherwise, and frankly this new revelation scared the crap out of her.

The Chozo consisted of four different races. One was known as the Ltaoclazeuq. This was the race that had dealt the most with the Confederacy. However the Ltaoclazeuq were only one part of a much larger family. The family included the nations of the Colalt, Ltacehe, and the Acopiltaczet. Together they formed the race known as Inauhomenlapi. All of these separate nations were in constant war with one another. A long and bloody civil war that had spanned generations of Chozo, and no one knew how many millennia. Eventually the Colalt and Ltecehe packed up and found other homes very far away, while the Acopiltaczet and the Ltaoclazeuq remained, each fighting and scrambling for the same ground. The two nations were almost impossible to tell apart save for one difference. The Ltaoclazeuq had a white mask around their eyes, and the Acopiltaczet had a black mask of feathers around their eyes. This prejudice had been the cause of many wars and the worst arms race in recorded history. The Confederation sat very neatly in the middle of this chaos. No wonder they wished to hide this information from her.

Angseth sat back and studied the glyph for a moment. Two feathered snakes, biting each other's tail, creating a circle of constant destruction. Light and Dark. Neither feathered serpent was more elaborate, or made to look evil, or good. They were equals, only their colors were different. Further information revealed that in the past two hundred years or so, the Acopiltaczet and the Ltaoclazeuq had formed a truce of sorts. They agreed not to meddle in the others affairs, and in turn, peace could be sustained.

But it wouldn't take much to set either nation off.

Angseth turned off the computer, signing Ryan off as she silently thanked him. Still, why was this information important? And why did he feel that Arashe couldn't be trusted? Was Arashe one of those people that tried to cause trouble just because it was there to be had? Suppose that she was in Arashe's shoes for a moment. Suddenly a link the Confederation had dropped into her theoretical lap, allowing her access and leverage in the Confederation. Or perhaps if she was in Ryan's place for the moment, trying to sway said Confederation link to another side. Each of them could dangle whatever treats they felt up to in front of her eyes in hopes to lure her away.

Vera closed her eyes. She needed more information and she needed to know who the hell she could trust here. Neither Ryan or Arashe would give her a straight answer, of that much she was certain. So all she could do for the moment was play along, and hope that some kind of opening would present itself.

_I just want my limbs back._

* * *

The mechanic was a pleasant individual. Older and smaller than most of the Chozo she had seen so far. He smiled from behind a pair of holo glasses, his eyes small and squinted. His clothing was simple, minimal to what she had seen the others wearing, and exposed more his body than she had the privilege to see before. The Chozo were bird-like, but the only areas of their body that contained feathers was the head and near their ankles. The rest of their bodies were covered in a fine layer of shiny gem-like scales in many different patterns and colors. The mechanic had a crest of black feathers with glossy dark red scales covering his arms. A pattern of yellow diamonds started at his shoulders and continued under his clothing, which was very form fitting. Angseth was curious to see what the diamond pattern continued to look like on his back and along his spine.

The tiny Chozo circled around her as she stood on a glowing disk. Mechanisms circled around her, scanning and measuring her body from every angle. This was definitely a more in-depth scan than she had received when she gotten her last leg. He paused and began to sign to her. The Mechanic didn't wear a translating device, and Vera was happy to try her hand at the language without the handicap.

_ How long did you have your former artificial limb?_

"About ten years. Give or take. It was regularly calibrated once a year." Angseth almost winced at the thought of it. Regular calibrations and regular intervals of teeth marks in Briars arm.

_ Do you prefer any features, or particular style?_

Angseth thought Ryan would have told him earlier, but once again she repeated herself. "Something useable, with standard features. Not too expensive. I don't want to get mugged because someone sees me walking around with some top-grade hardware."

_ Understandable._

The Mechanic pulled a few holo screens closer, studying the information presented on them. He then began signing.

_ You are free to go._

"Hm? That's it?"

_ Yes, come back tomorrow afternoon and I will have your new limbs ready._

Angseth stepped off the disk, and took her coat back from Ryan. She had been given a new Captains uniform. It made her feel a little more comfortable. She was glad that all this mechanic did was take a few scans, none of those painful tests she had taken before. "What kind of limbs will I get, walking? Multi-purpose? And most importantly, how much are they going to cost me?"

_ Custom. Each being is unique. All of my works are custom pieces. As for price, Ryan has already seen to that._

Angseth's jaw dropped. Her last few legs she had picked out of a previously made line up. She would never have been able to afford custom pieces on her own.

As they left the small shop, Angseth walked a bit faster to catch up with Ryan, who was walking swiftly toward their transport. "Ryan."

He paused, looking over his shoulder.

"Why?"

_ What do you mean?_ his hands moved slower now, obviously happy that she had taken the time to study up on the language.

Angseth looked at her left hand, then began to trace clumsy symbols and signs in the air. She couldn't use her noun hand, so instead she would pause to indicate the noun, and then begin with her verbs. _Why did you buy those limbs for me?_

_ I wasn't the one to purchase them. The High Council did._ He turned around and began walking toward the transport again.

"Ryan."

Once again he turned. This didn't seem to be like him at all. Quiet and contemplating.

_ I would like to talk with you._ Angseth folded her fingers in another clumsy way, hoping that Ryan saw what she meant. The symbols for "to talk" and "to move" were very similar due to the fact that they communicated through sign language.

Ryan seemed to relax immediately. A subtle gesture, but one that she had been able to notice. _Why yes Angseth, I do believe that this a good day for a walk!_ He lifted his hand and sent the transport on its way, then turned with a big smile on his bird-like face. "I thought that you would never get it."

Angseth's jaw dropped for the second time that day. "You can speak Breft. Why didn't you let me know before?"

"Everyone here can understand Standard. Not many here know of Breft. I knew that you would be familiar with it since you told Arashe about the station you had your fighter repaired on." Ryan gently placed his hand in the small of her back, and began leading her down a system of trails.

"I need answers,"

"We all do. Even here in the forest, it seems that even the trees have ears."

Angseth's mouth abruptly snapped closed. This was one of the few nursery rhymes that she had learned in Breft. But now the double meaning was very clear. They were being watched. "How many ears would each tree have if it had ears?" She sang the next line.

"Many, Trees can hear anything." Ryan laughed, completing the rhyme. "Your grasp of language is amazing. How many others do you know?"

"Native Syrese."

"Too common."

"Standard."

"Given."

"Breft,"

"Obviously." Ryan nodded, since that was the language they currently spoke in.

"Kin' Tara."

"Interesting."

"P'ara'shuin."

"Perfect." Ryan said. Now speaking in P'ara'shuin. "We can switch back and forth between as many of them as we need to during this conversation, to attempt to throw off any watchers. I will also help fill in your vocabulary in my language, that of the Ltaoclazeuq. Whenever I begin to sign, do your best to follow."

"I will." Angseth flexed the fingers on her left hand. Making those symbols and signs were hard on the tendons. She needed bird hands to pull off some of them.

"Ask away." Ryan began to sign some words that she already knew. Angseth tried to follow. Trying to focus on two completely different languages at once.

"Who are you?" She asked.

"Your escort. Nothing more."

"Will you ever tell me the truth?"

"In time you will discover it. I cannot say anything directly."

"Fair enough," Angseth stumbled. He had switched spoken languages again. The symbols he traced were more complex. "Can I trust either you or Arashe?"

"No."

"Why? What do either of you represent that could cause me harm?"

"You are aware of the civil war between our peoples?"

"Yes, now I am."

"The group Arashe represents wishes to wipe out or drive off the threat. I represent a group that wishes to preserve the peace. There are forces like us on both sides," once again he switched to another language.

"I could guess that. Where do I come in?" Angseth wasn't as familiar with this language, but at least she could follow.

"The Confederation's main territory is right in the middle of all of this. In 'no mans land' so to speak. My group wishes to maintain peace for the sake of the new political force that has grown in the wake of so much blood shed. The Confederation is still young, and holds much promise."

"And the group Arashe represents, wants to destroy the Confederation?"

"Not in such black and white terms. They want the Confederation to remain there as an outpost, and possibly even as a means to create more troops for the cause. A convenient obstacle."

"And in no way either your or his group is thinking about the welfare of the people of the Confederation?"

Ryan grew quiet, helping her to focus on the more complex symbols he traced in the air. "I would like to think that is not the case. My group wishes not to fully immerse itself into Confederation politics until this whole mess has been dealt with."

"So what are your groups motives?"

"We wish to continue the treaties with the Acopiltaczet so that peace can be maintained throughout the Chozo Empire and not interfere with the political maneuvers of other races."

"And Arashe's group?"

"To drive off the Acopiltaczet in order to achieve the same ends."

Angseth sighed. "And either way requires bloodshed."

"Unfortunately. But there had been a loophole of late."

"Oh?"

"We wondered if there could be a way to have a neutral observer be a go-between, so that differences could be worked out between our two nations before it came to blows with each other. It almost seemed as if our gods had answered our prayers. Years ago, we found a small human child."

"Samus."

"Yes. Samus is my hatch-mate. We were raised together."

"So you're her brother," Angseth stopped, and sat on a rock. Her leg was aching again. Ryan folded his legs underneath his body and began to hover in the air. Vera mulled this thought over for a moment. "Is that why . . ."

"She lived part of her life here with the Ltaoclazeuq, and part of her life with the Acopiltaczet. She acts as a unifying force for all three of our nations, including the Confederation."

"So why are you giving me all this information?"

"Because Arashe attempted to hold this information from you. You know as well as I do that the best way to control a people is to control how much information they receive. I am not trying to control you, so I have given you as much information as I can. That said, please be careful how much information you reveal during these next few trials."

"But why choose me?"

"We have not had contact with Samus for years. We know that she is still alive, but she has not reported in. This has made both of our groups very nervous. You have had contact with her, and more than that, brought back information as to why we have not heard back from her."

"Why wont anyone tell me what's in that file?"

"You will learn. We are approaching the main council chambers of Agharta. The delegates have much to ask you."

"Why did you wait for so long?"

"Everyone wanted to be sure that you had settled in comfortably and recovered from your ordeal."

"Sound mind and body?"

Ryan smiled again. Angseth was able to see that this was the mask that he hid behind. Just as her own face would turn to stone when she wanted to hide her emotions, Ryan put on a smile to thwart his enemies.

Angseth could stand to learn a few lessons from him.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12:**

Angseth and Ryan stepped out of the forest then followed a stone path to one of the larger more ornate temples. Even from a distance she could tell that this had to be one of the more important structures. The temple was tall, brightly decorated, and covered in writing. Placed at regular intervals around the perimeter were Chozo in highly ornate power suits. Intricate designs had been engraved into the surface of their armor, and large headdress complete with exotic feathers swept back at an angle from the crown of their heads. Between each standing solder was another Chozo in Morph Ball form. Angseth found it amusing that the Chozo had no set color scheme for their power suits, or at least she hadn't yet noticed anything that could be considered a uniform. Maybe the different colors or designs were a sign of rank? She made a note to check up on it later.

The Chozo seemed to have affection for light wispy fabrics. _Maybe they represent clouds?_ Vera stopped before she theorized herself into a corner. She would discover more of their culture as time progressed. However, now that she really looked, no other Chozo seemed to wear the gold and red armor Aran had become famous for. The Chozo had armor and designs in every color of the rainbow, all except a true gold. More food for thought.

The outside of the temple looked as archaic as everything else in Agartha. Large stone blocks that had been covered with many intricate carvings and symbols made up the exterior of the temple. Some of the symbols she could read now. Now that she knew a bit of the sign language, the actual hieroglyphs themselves looked much like the designs she had been making with her hands. When she stepped inside the temple, Angseth suddenly remembered that she was on a ship. The interior was as advanced as anything that could be found anywhere in the Confederation. After walking around in wooded areas for the week, admiring all the old temples and greenery, Angseth had grown accustomed to the look and feel of Chozo culture. The first holo she came across after so long seemed to be an unknown oddity until something in the back of her mind recognized its function. Had she been out of the loop for that long?

The interior of the temple was open and grand. Before her stretched marble floors polished to a mirror finish. Columns held the roof aloft allowing as much light as possible to flow into the hall. Angseth looked upward and saw nothing but bright blue sky, some clouds and the backs of the guards standing around the perimeter. Angseth remembered that this technology was called Reflect. Basically holo cameras were placed around the roof or some other location, then holo projectors on the ceiling, or wall, or something other surface would feed the live image to the interior of a structure. When done correctly, the effect could be quite stunning.

_ This way please._ Ryan was back to signing again. He escorted Angseth to the center of the temple, through crowds of multi-colored Chozo. Vera had wanted to stop and just admire all the interesting people around her, but kept her composure and followed Ryan to the center of the room. In the middle of the temple was a large metal disk set into the floor, large enough for ten people to stand on, and engraved with even more elaborate designs. It reminded Angseth of Celtic knot work. No one else stood on the disk, and Angseth soon discovered why.

As soon as she stepped on the disk, Angseth felt a vibration move through her body. This was either a teleporting stone, or some other localized Gate technology. She hated Jump Gates. The _Mabus_ had always been too large to travel through one, but she had been through numerous times while traveling in her fighter or some other small craft. After years of getting sling-shot around the universe, she learned that Jump Gates made her puke, and she avoided them at all costs. This disk was like a Jump Gate, and when the buzzing stopped, she stumbled off the disk into the unknown, then waited for the nausea to hit. Surprisingly, it never did.

Ryan stepped beside her. _Are you well?_

"Yeah, I don't handle jumps very well."

_ Your senses have become quite attuned to any change in your environment. I'm envious._

"Paranoia will do that." Angseth recovered herself, then look around. They were still in a temple, but the designs and décor had changed. There were less people here as well. "Where are we?"

_ The innermost sphere, Hyperborea._ Ryan smiled over his shoulder to Angseth. _I promise, no more Disk Gates._

Vera looked around as Ryan led her down a long hallway, the ceiling high and vaulted, and everything covered in hieroglyphs. At the other end of the hall stood another long row of guards, standing before a set of doors. Ryan escorted Angseth through these doors and into a large council chamber. The set up was one Angseth was familiar with. Seats were placed on many different levels, the focal point being the center of the floor where she supposed the main speaker would sit, or stand. Seated everywhere were multi-colored Chozo, all signing rapidly to each other. The room was alive with the rustle of fabrics and the occasional squawk. Vera scanned the room, noticing that each seat was marked by either a glyph or other symbol. Holo screens cluttered the room, and one holo cube had a familiar symbol displayed.

_ A Luminoth data glyph!_

Angseth scanned the room, then saw him, a Luminoth signing away to some bright red Chozo, Arashe perhaps? The Luminoth were another tall race, like their namesake suggested, they resembled large insects, with a detailed exoskeleton, and small vestigial moth-like wings. From the top of their heads rose two antennas that were both elbowed and feathery. The Luminoth came in as wide a variety of colors as the Chozo themselves did. He didn't wear any clothing, or at least not anything Vera could recognize as clothing. She decided to make it a point to speak to him later.

_ Come Captain. There is a place for you as well._ Ryan led her to a tier of the council room. As she walked, all the activity in the room stopped, and everyone became eerily quiet. All eyes and antenna were turned toward her. Angseth felt her good spirits evaporate and become replaced with the hard steely feeling she usually saved for ranking officers. Her shoulders straightened as she moved toward a seat. She didn't need Ryan to escort her anymore, she could see the Galactic Confederation symbol hovering over a chair.

Ryan left her and began making his way to the center of the council room. He stood at the focal point and then donned an elaborate headdress. Sounds came from all corners of the room as everyone stood from their seats and bowed toward him. Vera stood for a moment feeling very awkward. _So my escort these past few days is actually the Chairman of a council. Great._

Ryan began to make elaborate gestures with his hands, each movement practiced and ceremonial. As his hands moved, a synthesized voice moved through the room, another translator. _"As a courtesy for our Confederate representative, this meeting shall be held in Standard."_

There were a few answering noises, mainly universal translators switching on, however Angseth felt her gaze fix on Ryan. She knew that her expression must not have been a pleased one, but some kind of formal introduction would have been nice. Parts of their conversation earlier played back through her mind. He had said that she couldn't trust him. So, why had he given her all the information that he had if she couldn't trust his actions? She was confused. Between him and Arashe, she felt like she had been faced with a puzzle an instructor had presented her with in Basic Training. The puzzle consisted of two boxes, one, she was told held money, the other nothing. On top of the boxes was a pair of holos hovering over the surface displaying theater masks. And as she was told, one these faces always lied, and the other always told the truth. You could only choose one box to open, and that was the end of your turn. The idea was to ask each of the faces questions to figure out which box the money was in. After two questions, Angseth just pulled out her firearm and blew each box to pieces. She wasn't allowed to keep the money because she hadn't followed the rules, but it was more than worth the laugh she had gained from her platoon.

Now that she was faced with the dilemma of Arashe and Ryan, Vera wished that she had paid more attention. She couldn't very well pick up a gun and shoot both of them to see what goodies they had.

_ "Everyone, this meeting has been called to discuss newly acquired information on the fate of Samus Aran. Everyone here has some kind of stake in his well being. Warriors, the doors if you would?"_ Ryan called out, signing at the same time.

Vera watched as Morph Balls unfolded from various positions around the room, Chozo warriors then stood and closed the doors to the meeting hall, then stood guard before them.

_ "Before I begin, I will introduce our guests. Ei-Aier, Head of Scientific Relations comes from our friends the Luminoth. And Captain Angseth of the Confederation. I will also add that Captain Angseth is the sole surviving marine of the possession of Aether by the Ing."_

Angseth only half-listened to his opening speech, she found herself fascinated by the way his hands moved as he signed what he spoke. She paid close attention to how he signed her name. So that's what it looked like.

Ryan extended his hand, and holo screens began to float around him like so many butterflies. Angseth noticed that her own seat came alive with holo screens, set to semi opacity so she could still see through them to Ryan. _"Risking his life, Captain Angseth was able to deliver this data to us. It contains the log books from Samus' craft and power suit. It is also the first form of contact we've had with Samus for over five years. This file reveals why he has not made contact. Some is information we already have, most of it however is new."_

Angseth felt that she might as well get used to being referred to as a male in Chozo-speak.

_ "Over ten years ago, the virus known as 'X' had been found on an old colony, known to the Confederation as SR3-88. The only records that had survived with details of this virus were gleaned from preliminary transmissions before the destruction of SR3-88 and the orbiting science station. It was only now through this data that we are able to finally discover the events that had taken place there,"_ Ryan waved his hand again, and Angseth's holo screen filled with the familiar information she had received on the disk.

…And the information was still in Chozo. After scanning the document however, she noticed that it wasn't the dialect that she had been learning for the past few days. _Back where I started._

Ryan then began to read passages from the disk, and slowly the story began to form before Angseth. She found herself amazed by Aran's words. Angseth had never heard the Hunter speak, let alone have a chance to listen to her more intimate reflections from a logbook. Samus seemed to have a very practical and minimal way of writing, but with an underlying sense of humor, even through the more serious moments. Aboard the _Mabus_, Angseth's logs consisted of a large checklist with only a few spaces left for comment. Vera hated filling them out. Aran's however followed a more traditional format.

Roughly ten years ago, before Angseth had received her captain's bars, Aran responded to a Federation request to assist scientists aboard an orbiting science station located near SR3-88. The scientist had discovered an energy anomaly known only as "X." X seemingly consisted of free-willed predatory energy waves that infiltrated and multiplied in physical beings. X would then duplicate the characteristics of its prey. Aran had been summoned to assist in fighting off this threat. Since Metroids were assumed to be the natural predators of X, Aran had agreed to have Metroid DNA fused with her own. This began a frightening reaction in her body. Her power suit began to bond with her skin. The scientists had to surgically remove the Chozo armor from her body. It was now known that the armor, known as a Varia suit, had been infected with X, and her new Metroid DNA was trying to suck it dry. The scientist then assisted her in creating a new suit that could easily absorb X through its plating. Angseth was familiar with this bit of lore, she had seen brief captures from security cameras of what had become known as the Fusion Suit. The end result of that event had been the destruction of SR3-88.

As Angseth had suspected, the story did not end there. The fusion never stopped. The suit the scientists had made slowed the fusion process, but didn't stop it. Metroids absorbed X, and produced insane amounts of energy from it. Aran's logs revealed that in the absence of X, Metroids could make do on almost energy source. They also had an ability to use matter to create and harden the shell that surrounded its internal and more vulnerable organs. Aran also began to become more sensitive to cold temperatures. She had acquired another Varia suit that also worked as good insulation against the cold. But the minor comfort only lasted until she began to fuse with it as well. Aran soon lost the ability to remove the suit; it was then that she dropped out of contact with both the Chozo and Confederation.

Aran no longer craved food or water; she instead very reluctantly began to pull energy from living creatures to keep her own body alive. More than once in her logs she referred to the procedure as "Vamping-out" a bitter yet accurate term. She began a vicious campaign against the Gamma Fleet Pirates, pursuing their science vessels with the hope of gathering more data they may have had on the Metroids. Just being around other living creatures caused her predatory urges to kick in, and the Metroid appetite was insatiable. After many years of searching, she only discovered that her situation was getting worse. Not only had her body fused completely with the both the fusion suit and Varia suit, but seemed to become weaker. She also began to go through energy faster. If she didn't feed on a regular schedule, her body would enter a coma-like state. Since her condition seemed to be deteriorating so rapidly, she went for more and more dangerous missions. Aran also alluded to an ally within the Gamma Fleet itself. Even though she never mentioned anyone by name, Angseth had a sudden revelation as to who it was.

_ I need to see if I can talk to Weavel at some point._

Aran's last recorded mission had been in response to a SOS aboard the Seattle.

At this point, Ryan turned to Angseth. _"Captain Angseth also received this SOS and averted her course to respond to it,"_ He gestured to the logs again. _"Captain __Angseth, would you please tell the council your own viewpoint upon arrival at the Seattle, and continue to the point where our scout ship found you?"_

_ No, I can't trust the bastard can I?_ If she told every little detail, the Chozo would be extremely pissed that one of their own had been taken into custody by the Confederation, however if she lied, then it wouldn't be difficult to catch her in it, and appropriate action would be taken. I.e., she would wind back up in that jail-egg for however long.

Angseth stood from her seat, leaning more to the left on her good leg. Ever since her first month in Basic, she had been accustomed to standing when giving a report. "My name is Mervera Diane Angseth, Captain of the Confederation Battleship _Mabus_." She stated her name and rank for the record. Her Chozo was not yet refined enough to give a report in, so Standard would have to do. "I'll answer as many questions as I can during this testimony." She reached to her side and took a small sip from a glass of water. "If there are any questions, please raise your . . . hand."

Immediately several claws and palms met the air. Vera once again took a sip of her water. Partly because she was parched, and partly because it tasted so damn fresh and pure. After taking a deep breath she began to give her report.

She began with the Seattle, and meeting Aran there. She admitted that she had followed Aran in pursuit of the Pirates to FQ3-58, and received the data from her there. Nowhere in her testimony did she even hint at any other Confederation forces. For the most she told the truth. She _had_ met Aran there, and she _had_ left. Angseth just left out the conditions of her departure. When the subject of her arrest warrant inevitably came up, she stated that she was not at liberty to speak of it at the moment. This seemed to anger a few of the people present, but Ryan made sure that no further line of questioning addressed the warrant. It was easier to talk about her experiences on Tallon IV, and once again she left Weavel out of the telling. Had to remain consistent in her lies now. When she finished her tale, Angseth received one of the most rigorous cross-examinations of her life. The council picked, they pulled, each one searching for a loophole they could dig their beaks into and expose her story. Vera remained calm, even as tempers flared. These bastards acted like they already knew what happened and were just trying to get her to admit it. Yet another one of her lessons in Basic came through again today. If you make up a story or even part of it, _stick to it_, never change your story in any small part least you draw more suspicions. This wasn't something she had learned in a classroom, no, one of her so-called friends at the time had left a footlocker full of contraband goods in Angseth's bunk. Angseth knew that her friend had intentions of selling the stuff to other Marines, and needed Angseth to cover for her. Angseth had always been a good girl, and the Officers never thought to look in her bunk. That had been a very delicate dance everyday explaining away why there was an extra footlocker in her room, and also covering for her "friend". When her friend was eventually caught, she tried to pin everything on Angseth. In turn Angseth leaned her "good girl" status to sway the Officers in her favor. On occasion, even years later after she transferred from the Marines to the Spaceforce, Officers would still question her about the trunk. Angseth stuck to the same story for so long, even she was starting to believe it.

And now in this room full of Chozo, she had to believe that there had been no one else on FQ3-59 with herself and Aran. Her freedom, and probably even the safety of the Confederation depended on it.

Two pitchers of water later Angseth finally finished her testimony, finished all the questions, and hoped that someone had recorded all of that because she wasn't going to go through it again. She sat down, and was relived when the sound of Ryan's translation device filled the council room.

_ "This meeting will recess for the evening. Please return tomorrow morning so we may discuss our actions, if any, we should take in this situation."_

Angseth leaned back in her seat. Everyone in the room seemed to be observing a kind of prayer ritual, even the Luminoth seemed to be praying or something to that extent. Vera really didn't care anymore, she was tired and in the past few days she had been subjected to many technological and cultural wonders. But that had all become very overwhelming. Would Ryan still escort her around? Or would Jamie come in and take over again?

"Captain Angseth?" Ryan suddenly said.

Angseth sat up and looked around. The entire room was empty, save for Ryan and the Luminoth, Ei-Aier. "Did I fall asleep?" She pulled herself to her feet. "I am so sorry."

"It was pure poetry when your snoring interrupted my closing remarks. Why didn't you let me know that you were so tired?"

"I wasn't sure that I was, I didn't want to disturb your meeting." Angseth paused for a moment, her eyes resting on Ei-Aier. Angseth always found it difficult to look into those multi-faceted eyes. Now that she was close enough, she could see Ei-Aier's insect-like mouth.

Ryan had removed the headdress, and held his hand out to Angseth.

Angseth accepted his hand. "Why didn't you tell me you were a Chairman?"

"I had wanted to observe you as yourself before I made the decision to include you in this meeting. I see that you have performed well."

"Warn me next time before you decide to throw me to the wolves." Angseth followed Ryan out of the meeting hall. "Did I cause that much concern by being here?"

"Admiral Mizzen practically slapped a warning label on you."

Angseth tried to look annoyed or otherwise upset, but couldn't stop the smile spreading over her lips.

"However I must admit you have a bit more restraint that other ambassadors of the Confederation." He held the door open for Angseth and Ei-Aier. "The three of us have much to discuss about your upcoming trip to Aether."

"My what?" Angseth politely hid a yawn. As comfortable as the prosthetic leg was, it still lacked a certain amount of grace. If she didn't have a convenient Chozo or Luminoth to lean on, she would defiantly need a cane. "What about Aether? Shouldn't this wait for the meeting tomorrow?"

"Yes…and no."

So far Ei-Aier had been silent. Ryan led them back to the disk gate. Angseth closed her eyes as the jump mechanism washed through her body. They didn't step out in the temple this time, but a pleasant garden. Vera looked around, still rubbing away sleepiness while surrounded by a dream-like landscape. In the light of the stars she could make out the shapes and smells of many beautiful plants and flowers. In the distance she could see mountains and vast forests.

Ryan led the two of them through the trees to what seemed to be a comfortable sitting area. Angseth gratefully sat down a stone bench, and noticed that the Luminoth chose to just hover in place, legs folded about four feet from the ground. Ryan took a seat on a stone bench across from Angseth.

"Do you mind if we just get to the point?" Angseth asked.

"Not at all." Ryan pulled his legs up underneath his body, and also began to hover in midair. "We were able to read the file from the moment we pulled your near dead carcass from Tallon IV. However we were not able to comprehend the full extent of the information until we spoke to you. You did well, not letting on that Confederation forces had captured Aran. That would have put you in quite a tight spot in that council hall. However, given that you had already told Arashe, then it will not take long for news to travel, if it hasn't already. We need to get you off the Araia for your own sake."

"And just when I was getting used to that cute little house too."

"We need Samus back. She is the only thing keeping the peace between our two nations. Admiral Mizzen gave us quite an opportunity by lending you to us. It would be easy to go in guns ablaze to get Aran back, but the potential backlash would be catastrophic. You present a method of having her returned without risking our alliance."

Even in half-sleep, Angseth could see the pieces coming together. Admiral Mizzen let them have access to a Confederation officer so that it would be a Confederate who would claim finding an illegal prisoner held by another Admiral. It left both parties with relatively clean hands, and would avoid future friction. That was all well and good, but where did the Luminoth come in? Angseth addressed Ryan with this question. "Where does Ei-Aier fit in?"

Ei-Aier spoke Standard, but with a bit of a whistle, and in an unfamiliar accent. "I came to meet you, and assist in your visit to Aether as part of the dedication ceremony of a memorial dedicated to those lost in Dark Aether."

Angseth felt the sleep leave her as those words settled into her mind. Dedication ceremony? She thought that she would at least have heard about this earlier, at least a few months in advance. "Why haven't I heard about this sooner?"

"We tried to get in contact with you several times, all of our messages had to be routed through your commanding officer however. We left information with both Admiral Mizzen and Admiral Mirson. Neither of them relayed the message?"

Vera thought about the fact that she hadn't checked her e-mail in weeks, and could also understand that if Mirson did have it out for her, then he wouldn't relay the information anyway. Mizzen would want to deliver the invitation personally.

Ryan spoke up. "This ceremony provides a window of opportunity to get you out of the Chozo nations and into neutral territory. From there on out you'll be Ei-Aier's problem."

Ei-Aier gave a whistling chuckle, his vestigial wings fluttered.

"Nice to know that I'm such a burden." Angseth sighed. "Does Mizzen know?"

"We assume that he wouldn't want to turn down the photo opportunity." Ei-Aier said. "On a more serious note, after listening to your testimony, and reading the data from the file, our worst case scenario has been realized. For her own health, Samus Aran needs to be found and returned to her people. The adoption of the Metroid characteristics can be blamed on the Chozo blood that had been used to save her life when she was a child. The Chozo are one of the few races that had altered their DNA so they could more readily adapt to different environments."

"So you feel that the Chozo and Metroid DNA fused as well to allow her to be a more effective predator?"

"Yes."

"That isn't a very comforting thought."

"Myself and Ryan don't feel so either. We need to study more so we can better reverse the process."

"So why do you need me?"

"We want you to know exactly what it is you're going to get into. With even the smallest amount of misinformation, you could seriously hurt yourself or Aran."

"Everyone seems to think that I'm supposed to be the one to go and get her. What if I chose not to?"

"We know that you are a very reasonable woman. We also know that if you can help it, you will keep the peace in the Confederation. We also know that you are one of the best warriors the Confederation has to offer. How many other Marines would shoot off their own arm for the chance to live just that much longer?"

Angseth groaned. "Quit stroking my ego. I don't know what you're heard, but I'm not really—"

Ryan voice interrupted her. "If you don't decide to get her back, we'll just give you back to Mirson and let him deal with you."

Vera raised an eyebrow. She hated being so neatly pinned under anyone's foot, or this case, talons.

"Will you cooperate?" Ryan asked, his voice stern.

Angseth had to give in. She wanted to get Samus back, she honestly wanted to get moving and get back to her crew as well. At this point she didn't know which to choose. Loyalty to someone she considered a friend, or at least a respected acquaintance, or loyalty to her job. "I…I'm going to need some time to think about it."

"I trust you'll make the right decision."

* * *

_"Please let me know if you experience any discomfort."_

"I will." Vera sighed as she reclined back in her hover chair. She was half tempted to watch the procedure, and half wishing that they had put her under from the start. She remembered all the pain and discomfort she had gone through when getting her first cybernetic leg. She had to remain awake for the procedure, and only limited local anesthetic. The Federation Marine Corp didn't cover cybernetic operations, unless one had already been screened for special ops. And even then you had to sign your entire life away. The Federation would own you and any part they had bought to make you more efficient. Briar had found a good cybernetic mechanic, and he was better than most chop-shops that she had heard about. But even with all the technology at their disposal, some methods remained crude. She had to remain conscious to ensure that all the synthetic nerve endings were connected properly.

Right now that joyful little Chozo mechanic circled around her, checking various holo screens and read out displays. At least that's what Vera thought they were. She wore very minimal clothing, a pair of shorts, and a sleeveless tank top that left her legs and arms exposed. Sitting on her right thigh, and what was left of her right arm were a series of what looked like pebbles. Ryan had warned her that they would be using fairly advanced technology to create her new limbs. He stated that they could have even gone out of their way to clone a new set of limbs for her, but that wouldn't suit either of their needs.

"If we made limbs to only complement your physical make-up," He explained. "Then there wouldn't be enough room for additional equipment."

Angseth had then fixed her gaze on Ryan, for a moment captivated by the flicker of turquoise blue scales that peeked from under his collar. "What kind of extra equipment do you feel that I need?"

"After this procedure, you will be capable of taking on the Morph Ball form. There are many benefits. By installing the mechanism in your arm and leg, you will be able to assume that form at any time that you chose. Consider it our gift," Ryan shifted in his seat. "Second of all, a condensed power cannon will be installed in your right arm."

Vera weighed her options. "Will I still have a fully functioning right hand?"

"Yes." Ryan took a seat, hovering in mid-air like the Luminoth the night before. "When you recover, I'll run you through basic training for both of your new gifts."

"I can't wait," Angseth said sarcastically. The Cybernetic doctor seemed to be wrapping things up, and she was beginning to get nervous.

"Vera, we need your help, and we are willing to equip you with what you need." Ryan turned his head as the mechanic whistled. "Ah, we begin. Please try to remain as still as you can."

Angseth tried to relax, but felt her unease grow as the mechanic and Ryan left the little room. From above her, that now familiar pink light came. Angseth stared up into it, feeling it sink into her skin. For a moment she realized that during her entire stay on Araia, and it's subsequent layers, she had witnessed such odd and subtle manipulations of technology. Most of it she couldn't place a purpose for, or even identify that it was there. She knew that it all had an explanation, but so far Ryan or any of the others weren't talking. What about the Morph Ball that she was getting? Even now the Confederation didn't have any means to recreate that technology. What if the damn thing broke? Would she just trespass on another Chozo planet so they could come and fix it? What if someone else found out about the Morph Ball and a gang of station thugs jumped her to steal her new limbs to get that technology?

And most importantly, would she be able to pick out her own color scheme and pattern to customize her Morph Ball?

Two small blue lights appeared on either side of the pink spotlight. The blue lights drew closer, and to Vera they looked like miniature suns circling and scanning her body. One of the blue lights settled near her arm, the other over her leg. The pebbles on her arm began to melt, beading and running over her skin. She felt gravity loosen around her, allowing her to free-float.

Her body slowly rose from the chair, and the blue suns began to grow slightly larger. She began to get that familiar pins and needles feeling. Angseth lazily rolled her head to her right. The pink light was working it's magic. She watched fascinated as plates, subtle wiring, and protective finishes were all snapped and welded together for her new cybernetic limb. It was like watching a mechanical diagram slowly come together around and on her arm. Angseth knew that if she had the strength to look, she would see the same thing happening to her leg.

_ I have no idea how it's done, but I am very grateful that it doesn't require nerve calibration._ She felt her head drift back. That damn pink light was telling her that sleep would be a good idea right now, and on what grounds could she argue with the ways of a higher intelligence?

* * *

Angseth could feel rhythmic movement under her body. Her sense of balance told her that she was upright, and most likely carried in someone's arms. A glint of gold out of the corner of her eye told her who. Vera slowly came to, and began to regret it. The stims had worn off, and all of her nerves and senses were giving a damage report. Aran at least wasn't shooting at anything this time. Thankfully the only sound that came to Angseth's ears were the steady beat of Aran's feet on the packed dirt, and the occasional clank as Angseth's armor shifted. It hurt to even think about all the broken bones and sore muscles lurking underneath the fractured plasteel plates. Where the hell had she been last? What was her last memory? With all the stims in her system, combined with painkiller cocktails, the past few hours were a blur. It had something to do with Dark Aether. Had she really been that stupid?

Angseth opened her eyes just a little more. The oxygen in her suit had gone stale; it smelled like sweat and stress. Vera wished she could move so she could open the external vents and get some fresh air. Angseth could see a fine layer of dust covering her visor, along with a few specs and splatters of unknown origin. In her limited view window, she could also see the underside of Aran's helmet. The Hunter was indeed carrying Angseth in her arms. That couldn't be easy. Marine armor weighed close to two hundred pounds on its own. It could only be moved when all the different redundancies and muscle modifiers moved in synch. Throw in a dense-world human who was purt-near two hundred twenty pounds of muscle, and carrying someone became out of the question. Yet there Aran was, carrying this dumb Marine in her big heavy armor gods knew how far. It took her a moment for Angseth to register what was so different about the atmosphere.

_ Sunlight._

Angseth's eyes opened wider as she forced her head to tilt backward. Every last little vertebrae and cell in her spine complained but she had to know, she had to see for herself.

The dark clouds were gone. The clouds had covered the sky and hovered over her since she had first set foot on this world. They had all parted and left the sky one big clear blue gem

Aran's head turned as Angseth moved in her arms. For a moment Angseth thought that she could make out some of Samus' features behind her green visor, but no, it was just a play of dust and light on her own. Another few minutes passed, and the Marine craft came into view. Angseth had mixed feelings about the Tyr. She and the rest of Bravo squad had come here aboard it. What would they think of the only survivor?

_ I was ordered to guard my post, and I did. I did everything I could, so did everyone else. There's nothing more to say._

Aran stopped and knelt, setting Angseth down at the top of the lowered loading dock. She carefully took Angseth's shoulders and leaned her against the control panel for the loading ramp. Vera whimpered as her weight settled on her back. The darkened interior of the ship was indiscernible with the dust over her visor. Aran stepped out of the light, and into the ship. Angseth tried to follow her movements through the dirty visor; dust, blood, and spittle prevented her from seeing more than a faint glimmer of gold.

Angseth flexed her fingers, and found that she could at least do this with only a minor degree of discomfort. She slowly raised her arm, and once more her back protested. Her vision even seemed to gray a little. She let her arm drop until the pain subsided.

_ If I can just lift it far enough for the muscle compensation to kick in,_ She thought as she closed her eyes and began lifting her arm again. Her teeth clenched as she struggled for the one inch. The armor registered her movement and immediately the auto-compensationactivated allowing Angseth to lift her arm with minimal pain to her back. She raised her hand to her head, and depressed the emergency toggle for her helmet. The face-plate and both hemispheres of the helmet fell away and hit the floor with a loud crack.

Aran immediately swiveled around with her arm cannon at the ready. Angseth by now had been quite accustomed to staring down the barrel of the thing. The cannon lowered after the Hunter was convinced there was no danger.

Once the outside air hit her cheek, Angseth could tell that most of the left side of her face was swollen, but the cool breeze felt good. Sometime during her adventures the leather strip holding her hair back had snapped, and now her thick curly black hair spilled over the collar of her armor. Vera had always felt that her long hair was one of the things that set her apart from the other troops, and she was quite vain about it. When she had it pulled up in a ponytail, one of the guys in another squad said that it reminded him of a bundle of dark black grapes, each curl layering over another and displaying their own individual shine. If she lived through this, she couldn't wait to get in the shower.

Aran walked back over, holding a canteen and a few vials of painkillers. She knelt, and held the canteen to Angseth's lips. Vera felt the water touch her tongue, and no sensation was more welcome. She drank deeply, tears burning on her cheeks, carrying salt and dirt that stung her wounds. Aran slowly took the canteen away and set it down at Angseth's side, then knelt they were on eye-level.

This time there was no play of light, no mistaking dust and sun. Angseth could see Samus' eyes behind the green alien material that made up her visor. Her eyes reflected deep intelligence, and were the color of oceans as seen from space. But they were also tired and weary. Aran gave a short nod, then stood, dropping a rifle in Angseth's lap. A smile crossed Angseth's lips as Aran began walking down the loading ramp. She stopped at the bottom and hesitantly looked back over her shoulder.

Angseth looked at the rifle in her lap, one of Baker's old stand-bys. Could he, and everyone else forgive her for stepping on their graves? They had all watched her back, and now here she sat, in an empty ship, surrounded by their memories, and she with the knowledge of what had happened, watching Samus Aran, Bounty Hunter walk down the loading ramp and into the sunset.

Vera gave herself a new burst of stimulants and painkillers, the pain flared, and then faded. She used some cables used to secure cargo to pull herself upright and stand on the top of the ramp.

"We will meet again." Angseth somehow managed to speak. "I still have a post to defend."

Aran nodded once, then raised her left hand and made a thumbs-up gesture. Angseth pondered the sign as Aran took on her Morph Ball form and buzzed away. Vera shook her head she moved to the cockpit.

The com line suddenly cackled to life, and Angseth nearly had a heart-attack. The com lines had all been silent ever since crashing here.

_ "Marine Battle Cruiser Jackson to transport vessel Tyr, come in,"_

Angseth stumbled for the com.

_ "Battle Cruiser Jackson to transport Tyr, please come in,"_

Angseth's throat went dry despite the water she had drunk. "This is transport Tyr, I read you. We have sustained heavy losses and request immediate assistance,"

_ "Estimated loss?"_

Angseth paused, then said, "Entire crew, save for myself."

_ "What's your name soldier?"_

"SPC M. Angseth." She sat in the nearest open seat. The Captain's chair.

_ "Help is on the way, hold tight."_

Angseth leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes. There would be time for tears later, right now she just wanted to get off this damn rock.

* * *

"Angseth? Angseth?"

Vera didn't want to open her eyes. Sleep this deep was precious; she fought against the current, reaching for her last dream. She wanted to finish it. Drop everything and go running all over Aether after Samus again.

"Captain?"

The dream faded and Angseth resigned herself to the rising tide of conscious thought. Sensation eventually returned to her limbs. Angseth could sense that she was lying on her stomach, and if that were the case, then all of the hair on that side her head would be flat. She could tell by the sounds and faint grass-like smell that she had been returned to her house. She lifted her arms and pushed herself upward, then rolled over.

Wait. Arms. Plural.

Suddenly awake, Angseth lifted her right hand and stared at it. Dark sienna flesh, fingernails, even those small annoying hairs on the back of her hand. Everything was there.

_ Hey! Even my fingerprints!_

She quickly sat up then threw away the covers on her bed, then gasped.

A leg, a leg that looked like she had been born with it, save for an almost unnoticeable scar-like seam around her mid-thigh. Vera leaned forward and ran her hands along the surface. It had skin like a real leg, and most importantly, both her right hand and leg had the entire spectrum of touch-sensation. She could feel texture, hot, cold, everything. The skin tone matched perfectly, every last little wrinkle, crease, and fold. She had all five toes back! The bottom of her foot was just like the other one, complete with footprints. She giggled like a little girl when she began to wiggle all five toes independently of each other.

_ I can't wait for Briar to see this! He's never seen me with two legs before!_

"Ahem."

Angseth looked toward the sound of the voice, and discovered that she wasn't alone in the room. Ryan sat a few feet away from her, hovering in the air. Unconsciously, Vera pulled her covers back up to cover her near-naked body. Although she was sure that Ryan could have gotten an eye-full when she was out cold if he wanted to.

For a moment they sat just looking at each other, and for the first time Vera noticed the very light carvings on Ryan's beak. Not as ornate as Arashe's, but still stunning to look at. His eyes were grass green, in lovely contrast with the lighter blue color of his feathers. He smiled, a few feathers on the crown of his head lifting much like a cockatoos, revealing a layer of white feathers underneath. His shirt had fallen loose around his shoulders, and for the first time, Angseth had the opportunity to study the scale pattern along his neck, and then to his chest.

She blushed and looked away when she realized that she had been checking him out. Heavens she hadn't eyed someone up like that in a long time.

"I'll just wait for you in your common room." Ryan said with a smile as he pulled himself to a stand, and adjusted his shirt.

Angseth watched him leave, and pulled her sheets up tighter around her shoulders. She chuckled a little as she drew her legs up to her chest. She could feel the texture of the sheets against her skin. Briar wouldn't be angry with her for looking, even if she did tell him. He might even be happy that her heart of stone was starting to crumble a bit.

Human men didn't seem to be appealing to her tastes. At least not since Exetor. Losing him had hurt in the worst way. Angseth suddenly reached up and grabbed fistfuls of her hair.

_ You should be happy today! You just got a new set of wonderfully made custom limbs! You've cried those tears already! Let it go! Let Aether go!_

Vera knew that could prove to be difficult in the near future, since Aether was her next stop. Had she been running away from the memories all this time? She began to sift through her clothes and pulled out a pair of sweat pants and loose shirt. She stood up from the bed and almost cried when she felt the carpet and wood under her bare feet. She eyed her boots in the corner, and decided against them.

Ryan and Ei-Aier were waiting for her in the main room. Ei-Aier looked huge in the small space. A ball of water hovered in the air between them, bubbling and tinted light green. Ryan turned as he entered, then began to sign to her.

_ How are your new arm and leg?_

Angseth seated herself on one side of the bubble and signed back. _Marvelous. But I had asked for something that didn't look so high-tech._

_ We eventually decided against it. Once your basic training in complete, you will be quite capable of defending your own limbs._

Vera examined the ball of water.

"Have some tea," Ei-Aier offered.

"I don't see any cups." She was still fascinated at whatever technology held this bubble aloft and hot. Now that she was close enough she could make out little tea leaves and a few blossoms bouncing around inside.

"You don't need a cup." Ei-Aier held up his hand, touched the outside of the bubble, and drew away a large bead of tea on the tips of his fingers. He then brought that to his lips and began to sip it.

Angseth studied the ball, then reach out her right hand, touched the bubble and drew away a small bubble on her fingertips. "Wow." She marveled at the ball of tea for a moment. It still had all the weight and heat of a perfect cup of tea, but with the elasticity of a liquid. The longer she held her fingers against the sphere, the larger her share became. The ball rolled over the back of her hand, and she caught it with her left before it could hit the floor. She held it in both hands, then lifted the ball to her lips, and drank deeply. As she drank, the ball of tea became smaller, and eventually vanished. "That's pretty intense." Vera reached for another bead of tea, and then noticed a large trunk sitting in the stasis field under her Sigel. "What's that?"

"Our gift to you." Ei-Aier said. "A new power suit, of Luminoth design and make. We have made it to look just like your old Confederation Captains suit, complete with those terrible ranking armbands. Your fighter has also been repaired and modified. Complements of System Admiral Mizzen."

Angseth shook her head. Must have been the old beast's idea of a joke. She looked at Ryan and signed. _So when do we start training?_

_ When the time is right, your new abilities will surface, and then I will guide you through them. For the time, you are an honored guest of the Chozo. It has been much fun Angseth, but I'm afraid I do have a bit of business to attend to._

Vera smiled. This would be the first time she would have the opportunity to run around Agartha unescorted and she was eager to explore every last nook and cranny. _Will Ei-Aier be going with you?_

_ Yes, for the time, but both of us will join you later this evening._ Ryan stood, his fingers resting on the sphere for a good thirty seconds. He seemed to pull enough tea to keep him for a while. Ei-Aier did likewise. _Try not to get into too much trouble today._

"Me? Trouble?" Angseth sat trying to look innocent. The expression on Ryan's face told her that it wasn't working. Vera stood and saw both of them to the door. As soon as their multi-colored forms left her house, she ran through her main room, into her bedroom and grabbed a set of casual clothes along with her Captain's jacket. As soon as she was dressed, she leapt off her back porch, and hit the ground running through the grass and trees.

The only thought on her mind was the location of her fighter.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13:

Weavel was on the prowl. There was a large bounty on the loose in this station and he was in the right place at the right time to capture it. However he wasn't here to capture the bounty.

He was after another Hunter.

Not that the bounty head wouldn't be a nice consolation prize. But Weavel still preferred that the Bounty were softened up a bit first. The Bounty the other Hunter was after is a large glass-like arachnid that was wanted on several different worlds for grand larceny, and industrial espionage. The Bounty went by the street name of "Sand". Sand had been traced to this station, the Cincinnati, a hub for several of the largest banking firms in the Confederation.

The Cincinnati contained cutting edge communication and security systems. All in all, the station was a model of efficiency. It used a tidal system to generate hydro-electric power which ran all two thousand miles of its public transportation infrastructure. Run-off energy then went to power the civilian sector. The Confederate military also had a decent encampment here. The Cincinnati served as a recruiting base. Newly enlisted Privates and Airmen often served a few terms here before moving on to more advanced academies. The Cincinnati worked very closely with the Military Police to ensure that their own law enforcement core had the most advanced weaponry available to the civilian market. Due to its large civilian sector and housing potential, large shipping firms also held their central offices here. The station had also been ranked as one of the most secure and safest places to raise a family if one simply could not avoid working in space.

But for every bright point of light, there must also be an accompanying shadow. Despite its safety rating, that survey only covered all of the violent crime. Yes, there was an abnormal shortage of stabbings, muggings, and rape, but that was due to the fact that many of the organized crime syndicates also called the Cincinnati home. You don't shit where you sleep. Therefore, most of the extremely violent crimes were relatively few and committed by inexperienced felons. For the most part, the organized crime rings kept to themselves and didn't draw much attention to their activities or identities.

This atmosphere made the Cincinnati either a very good choice for Sand to call a hideout, or a very poor one, depending on how Weavel chose to address it. Sand most likely had friends here, and enemies, he might even be here looking for another job. Weavel didn't care about why Sand had come here; the only thing that concerned him was Sand's whereabouts. Simple logic. Where Sand was, so too would be his quarry. Know the prey, know the predator.

There were many bounty hunters, but only one that was referred to with a capital letter. Long ago, the Hunter had left Weavel for dead. She had dropped down into his bunker like a ball of golden fire and detonated one of the more deadly weapons in her arsenal. Weavel remembered the scent of all of his companions vaporized in an instant. Weavel could still remember the sound of her footsteps as she left the room. Her humanoid body seemed to be weightless as she ran for the nearest door.

Weavel's body had been obliterated save for his upper torso and relatively untouched head. He could remember the smell of death and charred bodies. His legs and arms had been washed away in one golden wave. He could remember breathing in the ashy air, the taste and smell of so many dead. It would have been shameful for him to die as a common foot soldier. His people needed him to live.

Afterward Weavel faced the first of very many painful cybernetic implants. A secondary back-up crew had found his near-lifeless body and dragged him to a transport vessel. The transport vessel in turn had taken him back to one of their science vessels. Gamma Fleet didn't normally take care of their wounded, but Weavel was different. When they rested his body in a stasis field used for advanced operations, he remembered the scent of someone else other than the scientists in the room. It was a scent and air of someone he would come to loathe in the near future.

Ridley.

Now Weavel was on the Cincinnati, looking for Sand, who would in turn reveal to him the location of the person who had made his life a living hell. Samus Aran either needed to finish the job, or die herself. The latter would make Weavel very happy, or at least make him feel justified in his unending torment. He could feel Ridley waiting in the back of his mind like some kind of sleeping worm. If Weavel made a wrong move, the worm would come to life and begin to complain.

Ridley always started by asking him what he was doing. As if the numerous scanners and sensors that impostor had around the universe weren't enough, he needed Weavel to tell him what was happening. At first Weavel had been grateful for his new lease on life, and had sworn his allegiance to Ridley. Weavel soon regretted that choice. If he had known about the stupid ridiculous shit that Ridley would have him running to all corners of the universe for, then he would have shaken his way out of that stasis field on the science vessel and down the nearest incinerator hatch. If Ridley were not satisfied with his answer, he would send a jolt over the com-line that hit the direct nerve and pain center of Weavel's brain. A sort of prod to get him to cooperate.

Weavel soon learned that it didn't matter what he said or did, Ridley would just ride the jolt-switch until he was satisfied that Weavel was suffering enough. Sometimes, if Ridley felt particularly sadistic that day, he would remotely shut down Weavel's cybernetic body, keeping only the life-support systems active. On very rare occasions, Ridley would just move in and posses Weavel's body to finish a battle, or speak with a certain individual. Weavel had learned to withstand the pain, and he had learned to deal with the random shut-downs, Weavel had even learned to sit back and enjoy the ride when Ridley decided to use him as some kind of remote fighting robot-as unnerving as it was. Those things Weavel could deal with.

The thing that bothered him most was that Ridley was so damn _annoying_. What are you doing? Where have you been? Why did you do that when you could have done this? Where are you taking that artifact? When will you return to base for repairs? No you're doing it all wrong, let me show you. When was the last time you had your ship inspected? Why haven't you killed him/her/it yet? What is keeping you? Why can't you be more efficient? Ridley sounded like some kind of possessive girlfriend or wife, and acted a lot like one. The sheer mental anguish and stress made Weavel loathe waking up everyday.

So far Ridley had been silent, even as Weavel made his usual rounds of the Cincinnati's underworld. Sand had been here looking for work. Rumor had it that he was currently dwelling in the unused areas of the transportation system. There was a nice network of unused tunnels that ran parallel to the main transportation lines. It served as a convenient nest for illegal activity. The homeless lived there, assassins used the tunnels as a place to hide after a hit, and the usual flotsam that fell to the wayside collected there. It would make sense that Sand would want to call it a temporary home.

So Weavel began to patrol the Tunnels. He chose not to ask many questions because word would travel fast, and if Sand knew that two bounty hunters were after him, it would force him deeper into hiding. Weavel felt comfortable in the Tunnels. It was one of the only places he could walk around in full armor and not draw much attention. He wasn't the only rough-looking being down here. The Tunnels were just that, Tunnels. Mile after mile of large cylinder-shaped halls, small stalls and make-shift housing lined the walls of the Tunnel, everywhere people moved around the debris, a large crowd of beings from all corners of the Seven Systems. He pushed his way through the crowd, only courteous enough to not get into a fight with anyone. On the way he passed drug users, and improvised gambling circles where anything from dice to fighting station rats were getting bet on. His scanners came to life as he perused the wares for sale, contraband electronics, weaponry. The Cincinnati also played host to one of the biggest and most organized Black Markets in the Confederation. Weavel knew that most of these vendors and gamblers had connections with their organized crime syndicates further up in the station.

He also needed to be careful that his upcoming battle didn't damage much of the station. Ridley would not be pleased, and neither would Ridley's friends that lived here. Weavel scanned the crowd, wondering exactly where a twelve-foot tall glass spider could hide. The Tunnel was an ideal place, however a bit cramped; someone would have seen him by now. Had he missed Aran?

A flash of gold caught his optics, and the familiar rush of excitement washed over him. No, it wasn't Aran this time. It was some human slave girl that had been seemingly dipped in gold to make her more appealing. Weavel's spirits fell. It wasn't like him to start jumping to conclusions so readily. He doubted that he would encounter Aran out in the open here. She would most likely be elsewhere, perhaps hiding in some shaft waiting for her prey. This was only conjecture; Aran had been silent for some time. Silent meaning that her name hadn't gone down in any registries for apprehending and claiming bounties for some time. She had been apparently doing her best to drop out of existence. Which meant that she could only be gearing up for some big operation. Usually Bounty Hunters would go silent when they were trying not to draw attention to themselves. The less people paying attention to you made it easier for you to spring a surprise raid. It was by sheer luck that Weavel discovered that Aran was after Sand. When he arrived on the Cincinnati he didn't even know if Aran was here, then his scanners revealed trace amounts of energy exhaust from her Chozo vessel. Weavel felt that this would be the day he finally either died or got even with the damned woman.

He was losing hope however. The Tunnels were no longer the safe dark hide-out that he remembered. They had turned into some kind of vast flea-market. Sand or Aran wouldn't be found here. It was too public, too open. Weavel began to search his internal maps and ships computer system to see if there were any other likely places that either Sand or Aran could be hiding. The maintenance tunnels and unused sections of this station were immense. Weavel stepped to the side behind a make-shift booth selling some kind of fried street food to peruse his logs. Damn he missed eating.

As he settled near the wall, a cry echoed over the din of the Tunnel. Not an easy feat since it was loud in here already. That cry was soon joined by several others. Out of curiosity, Weavel glanced upward to see the crowd of people look down toward one end of the tunnel, then turn and begin running in the opposite direction. He leaned forward, and peered around the corner of the booth to see what all the fuss was over. Roughly one hundred yards down the Tunnel, he could see that the crowd had thickened as people tried to outrun whatever this thing was. Then the bodies of the slower ones became caught up in some big wave, limbs, entire groups of people, booths, stalls, everything at the crest of this thing were suddenly slammed against the walls of the tunnel. If he didn't act soon, Weavel would become caught up in this stampede too.

One single shot screamed over the heads of the crowd, a long golden-hued beam of energy that seemed more of a flare than a projectile. The crowd, not only trying to get away from this thing, but also worried about death from above, shrieked and ducked. Weavel felt his senses come alive with the anticipation of battle. Only person in the entire universe had such a beam, and her name was Samus Aran, the bitch that _almost_ killed him.

The crowd had to pause to duck the beam, and this created the desired effect. The flesh tsunami slowed, bringing the culprit to surface. Weavel watched with fascination and excitement when another push of bodies birthed a twelve-foot glass spider. Sand skittered over the top of the crowd, now clinging to the walls of the Tunnel, it's semi-transparent body taking on the color and texture of its surroundings. Weavel knew that Sand could only travel as fast as the crowd moved. By slowing the crowd, Aran had forced it out into the open. Weavel came out of hiding and prepared for the battle to come. He didn't care about Sand. He wanted the Hunter.

She too surfaced, and Weavel's scanners had difficulty locking on. She jumped, landing on the roof of another booth, then fired another shot at Sand. The Hunter was everything that Weavel had come to expect from reading her files and reports. She wore golden Chozo armor, accented with red, and green auxiliary power crystals set in key locations. Mounted on her right arm was one big green gun barrel, known as a Power Cannon. That one weapon had damn near brought entire planets to their knees. Weavel found a convenient crouching mecha-borg, and then hid behind him/it. Samus had taken it upon herself to do crowd control. As Sand ran along the walls and floor of the Tunnel, Aran jumped from structure to structure, alternately taking aim at Sand, and over the heads of all the innocent bystanders to keep them still or have them run for cover. How very thoughtful of her. Weavel felt that he wouldn't waste the ammo on a tunnel full of whores and drug addicts.

Weavel scrambled to the top of the stall to his right. Moving through the crowd would be near impossible now. No, now that he had sight of her, he couldn't lose it. Since Sand had been forced out into the open, the bounty head would start looking for a way out of the Tunnel. The nearest exit was a large crack in the wall about two hundred yards down. Sand and Samus were both heading in that direction. Weavel braced himself and fired a shot over the heads of the crowd toward Samus. The Hunter suddenly jumped, dodging the shot, but then affixing herself to the ceiling of the Tunnel. She turned and scanned the crowd for the source of the shot. Weavel jumped off the vendor's roof and became lost in the running crowd.

Samus dropped from the ceiling, and began to chase Sand down the Tunnel again.

_What are you doing?_ The sleeping worm in the back of his mind suddenly awoke. Weavel should have known that the shot would have gained Ridley's attention. _Where are you?_

Weavel jumped to the nearest stall and began running along the surface through the Tunnel, taking alternate shots at Sand and Samus. He didn't have time to play twenty questions with Ridley right now. Up ahead, Samus broke her stride to turn for a moment to take a shot at Weavel. Weavel jumped and dodged, then fired back. Samus, in turn, dodged once again, and Weavel's shot smacked Sand in the lower abdomen. Sand shrieked, then jumped back into the crowd, tossing panicked pimps and arms dealers hither and yon.

Here the Tunnel became wider, and instead of one level of societies dregs, industrious merchants had created an almost three story mall filled mainly with houses of ill repute and cybernetic chop-shops. Sand gained more ground here because he was not limited to running along the ground. Now there were plenty of balconies, railings, and scaffoldings the he could hold onto and make his get away. Weavel rejoiced because that meant that the Hunter would be slowed by the thicker crowds as well as a few heavily armed body guards. The Pirates spirits fell as Aran jumped off the nearest balcony, then in perfect gymnast form, grabbed an adjacent bar, flipped over it once, then used that momentum to spring off, and after Sand, taking shots as her body sailed through the air.

_Who are you chasing?_ Ridley wanted to know.

"I'm a bit busy right now." Weavel grunted as he too ran off the side of that balcony, used the pole for leverage, and became airborne, firing shots at both Samus and Sand. He hit the opposite side of the Tunnel hard, but used that force to spring off again, after Samus and Sand. Sand moved as easily through this area as if he were out for a morning walk. Samus kept bouncing back and forth across Weavel's scanners like some kind of golden monkey/cricket hybrid. Every time Samus lined up with Sand, she fired. Every time Weavel lined up with Samus, he fired, and ultimately ended up only hitting Sand. Occasionally Samus would turn, or back flip, or spin attack in a way so she could look back and taunt Weavel. He could see her expression through that green visor. She was playing with the two of them. Her smile was evident through the upturned corners of her eyes.

Sand never even so much as fired back. His only means of defense seemed to be throwing unsuspecting whores back at both Samus and Weavel. In some cases that could have been considered germ warfare. Bouncers and bodyguards of the various establishments soon stepped out of their safe little cubbies and began to fire upon all three of them. Weavel alternately used his Battlehammer as much as his pulse beam. Sand suddenly juked to the left, and all twelve feet of glass spider slipped through a crack that Weavel knew he would have difficulty navigating. Samus went right after him.

_Don't ignore me any longer Weavel._

"I'm busy!" Weavel screamed. He ran for the crack in the wall, and then felt a jolt come over the com line that caused his body to tense and momentarily lock up. This sudden loss of control caused him to slam into and through a merchant stall selling jewelry.

_Now look at what you've done._ Ridley said with a small chuckle in his voice.

"Aran is getting away!" Weavel yelled into his com.

_Oh! Well then, by all means. Continue your chase. Just try to keep in touch._

Weavel picked up his metal body from the floor of the stall, then leaped over the rubble and awkwardly stumbled after Aran and Sand. Ridley wasn't in a good mood today. Usually he waited for Weavel to ignore him for a few more moments before he pulled a stunt like that. The crack in the wall opened into a small littered walkway on the inner hull of this sector of the station. The walkway hadn't been part of the original design, some industrious individual had installed it long ago. Weavel wondered how something as large as Sand could creep along these halls, and even as he entered the hall, he lost sight of both of them. This walkway only lead to a larger network of catwalks that stretched and wound their way between the several layers of hulls different sections of the station had to offer. Sand would have little trouble navigating these halls. For that matter, neither would Aran.

The Pirate followed the sounds of battle down more narrow corridors, before he entered familiar territory. _No, Aran wouldn't be that stupid._ Weavel rounded the next corner and found out where the two of them had disappeared.

The Cincinnati contained a vast network of transport tunnels. Large round tubes that wound their way through the station like giant metal snakes. These tubes carried traffic in the form of private vehicles, public transport, and large trains. The walls of the transport tunnels were coated with a screen that would repel the polarity of anything that came into its field. It also used alternating polarities to guide vehicles forward, very much like a giant rail-gun. Where most stations had anti-gravity lifts or transport tubes, the transport system aboard the Cincinnati kept pollution and fuel costs low. The only thing that even considered entering that death trap where the vehicles that traveled through it, the occasional maintenance crew, and Samus.

The dammed woman had escaped through a door used by the transportation authority to walk different sections of track. Weavel stepped through the door and onto a large platform. The platform overlooked a portion of the transport tunnels, and held storage lockers containing the gear used to repair the magnetic screen. Weavel thanked the gods when he saw that there were also small one-man craft stored on the platform. If they had come this way, then where was his quarry? He ran to edge of the platform and scanned the streaming lines of traffic around him. There was no way any living creature could survive in the transport tunnels for long. Weavel began to panic, maybe they had tricked him and went another way. How long would it take him to track them down again?

A small gold-colored ball bearing caught his eye. From this distance Samus in her Morph Ball form looked like something that had dropped out of a child's toy. She rolled and zipped along the side if the transport tunnel walls diligently chasing something Weavel couldn't yet make out. Weavel jumped on one of the maintenance craft, quickly hacked the control system, and then took off down the transport tunnel after them. The craft was nothing more than a floating platform with a control mechanism. Already he could tell that the platform would not be anywhere near fast enough to catch up with Aran, and Sand was nowhere in sight. All around him traffic went by at incredible speeds. If he could find some way to tap into the pulse system of the tunnel, he could move faster. Reluctantly he pulled out his only ace.

_General Ridley?_ He asked over the com.

_OH! The prodigal son speaks! Please allow me to savor the moment, ah, light from the heavens shines upon me this evening! Tell me my son, what is it I can do for you?_

Weavel could feel Ridley's words dripping with sarcasm, it made Weavel felt so dirty, nothing could wash the grime away. _I need to tap into the pulse system to make this craft move faster, or else I will never catch them._

_Tapping into the Cincinnati's transport tunnel would tear that little maintenance platform of yours asunder. Done._

Weavel found something to hold onto as the platform suddenly began to move faster. Now he was able to keep pace with the slower vehicles in the tunnel, but still not fast enough to catch up with Aran. However he could make out Sand now. The arachnid had folded all of his legs in toward one point and was seemed to be swimming his way through the tunnel. Had the bastard installed a localized anti-grav unit?

The tunnel took one of its many turns, Weavel leaned hard to the right as the plating on the surface of his platform began to peel back and tear loose. Alright, if he couldn't stop them, then perhaps he could slow them down. This craft had no weapons, or anything that could be used as a projectile. His own pulse shots weren't doing a damn thing to either of them. That left him with only one option: cause as much collateral damage as possible.

Weavel leaned with the next turn, but purposely over compensated, sending the platform underneath another vehicle. He raised his Battlehammer, and tore the guts out of the inside of the car. Lacking its support thrusters, the car slammed to the floor of the tunnel, flipped once, and then went sailing into several other vehicles. The end result was a large traffic jam in the transport tunnel. Good, now that most of the obstacles had been taken care of, Weavel went into phase two of his plan. He pushed the platform to its limits; large pieces of plate and concrete flew off and hit other vehicles behind him, causing more chaos. Samus and Sand were still just two points on the horizon. In about half a mile, the tunnel would drop at a near ninety-degree angle, one of the few momentum points in the entire system. The drop had it's own gravity well, and was used to either slow or speed traffic. Weavel needed to stop them before they reached that drop.

Inspiration hit, and Weavel guided the platform toward the wall of the tunnel. He extended his Battlehammer, and dragged it along the wall, cutting into the metal plating, and eventually, into the screen that created the magnetic field of the tunnel. As predicted, the circuit was broken, and the entire length of the tunnel shut down. Weavel held on as the platform dropped to the floor of the tunnel and began skidding toward the drop. He had forgotten that the interior had been coated with a substance that reduced friction to prevent the occasional bad pilot from completely ruining their craft in the event of a wipeout. Weavel had been in many wreaks before, and knew that if he leaned back enough and just held on, the platform would lose inertia and eventually stop.

As the drop grew closer, he saw Sand skid and lose himself over the edge. Samus popped out of her Morph Ball form and slid along the floor of the tunnel on her stomach. Her left hand reached out for anything she could get a good hold on before she too dropped over the edge and out of sight. Weavel guided his skidding platform in toward her, and before she could slip over the edge, she extended her grapple beam and watched it catch hold of the platform. The platform came to a halt, leaving Samus dangling over the deep abyss. After everything thing had slowed, she pulled herself up the short energy beam, and grabbed a hold of the edge of Weavels' beaten transport.

With a smile Weavel calmly extended his Battlehammer, readying for one powerful decisive blow to the side of Aran's head. He wasn't going to get a chance for a nice shot like this for some time. But first he wanted her to look at him, he wanted to see the fear in her eyes, he wanted to see that damn playful smirk wiped off her face. He studied the top of her head, waiting for her to shift or move. There was something different about her armor, he could see that now that he was close enough. Around the edges, it appeared to have a transparent quality. She looked like someone had turned down the opacity on a hologram. If this woman before him was fluke and the real Samus was elsewhere, he was going to be pissed. Ridley surfaced again in his mind, not commenting, not taking control of Weavel's body, just observing. Samus also smelled different. He knew the oily musk of Humans, and this wasn't quite right. The Human stink was there, mixed with Chozo stink, and a new stink, a familiar stink.

Metroid stink.

This caused Weavel to pause. At that moment she looked up. Her eyes not showing any fear, in fact in her body language indicated that she showed no anxiety at all. Text began to scroll at the bottom of his HUD.

_Mind giving me a hand?_ The text read.

Weavel almost lowered his weapon. "Give you a hand?"

_Yes, either edge-camp or help me._

Weavel's rage began to swell within his now non-existing heart. How dare she? Didn't she have any clue as to who he is? If she didn't, he needed to introduce himself. "And why should I, Weavel of the Gamma Fleet, help you?"

_Because you're not Gamma Fleet. You are Siafu._

All of his rage vanished as quickly as it had come, his Battlehammer was suddenly heavy, and he struggled to hold it at the ready.

_I ask you, as a worthy foe, and implore upon your position as a Siafu prince, to please give me a hand up._

Weavel read the text carefully. How could she have known? How could she pull a stunt like this? She had called upon his station, she had called him a worthy foe? Wasn't that enough to grant her that small favor? "You…destroyed my life…killed my people like so many insects…and now you want my mercy? You have bigger balls than I had first thought Samus!"

_I didn't kill your people, and you're kidding yourself if you believe that. You've known for years that Ridley and Mother Brain had the entire Siafu race brainwashed. Ridley is still doing his best to keep all of you under his thumb. I don't know how you managed to escape with your sanity still intact. But I'm glad you did._

Once again Weavel read and re-read each syllable. She knew. She already knew about him, and about the plight of the Siafu. "And what will I gain if I assist you?"

_An ally against our common foe._

"Ridley."

Weavel slowly withdrew his Battlehammer, and looked back down at her red-colored helmet. His hatred for Ridley was infinitely more than his hatred for Samus. He had been blind to the needs of his people as he pursued his own quest for revenge. Ridley had assisted him because if their Prince was working for him, then the Siafu had no choice but to follow the whims of their prince. In turn, Ridley had manipulated Weavel for his own gain.

Samus felt Weavel's metal hand close around her wrist. She gave a push with her right foot as he pulled her up to the safety of the platform. For a moment Weavel was silent, just observing her. Finally he asked, "What are the conditions of this truce?"

_I help you free your people,_ She lifted her left hand to the light. The transparent armor revealed the lines and curve of the bones in her hand. _And you help me find out what's happening to me._

For the first time, Weavel felt hope. "Deal."

And for once, Ridley didn't have a comment to make.

* * *

A three days had passed since Angseth had received her new limbs. Days filled with more fun and relaxation than she had in a long time. In the morning she went jogging along the many trails scattered throughout Agartha. She never took the same trail twice, and never found an end to sources of amusement. She would climb up and over large rocks, and performed the occasional set of one-armed pull-ups from a convenient tree or ledge. In the afternoon she raided the Chozo libraries, soaking up as much information as she could.

One of the first things she had looked up in the libraries was the current stability of SR3-88-SOL. As she expected, as far as the Chozo were concerned, the star was old, but not unstable. If nothing else, this confirmed her beliefs that the mission that her got and her crew into this mess was bogus. If she couldn't get Mirson on anything else, at least she could throw this in his face. The Librarian helped her save the file in a new information storage system located in her cybernetic arm. How damned convenient.

Vera spent her nights listening to either lectures or concerts where Chozo singers and orchestras would play music from all over the galaxy. At night she would stumble home pleasantly tired and step into her own personal bathing spring, talk to Ryan or Ei-Aier, then go to bed and do it all again the next day. The first day she still hadn't figured out how to use her Morph Ball form. Ryan had spent much of his time laughing at her expense as he gave her instructions, then watched her ball her fleshy hands and feet in and roll around in her back yard like a bad gymnast. Ryan had an interesting laugh, high-pitched and long like the call of a peacock, except not as annoying. She had finally stood up and demanded to know what the trick was.

_Have you ever flown in your dreams?_

"You mean, as in without the aid of a jet or something?"

_Yes._

"Never without my fighter."

_Well, it's a lot like that. If you can summon up the same feeling of freedom and relaxation, then you should have no problem._

"I've always been bad with telekinetic technology."

_You're a smart girl. You can figure it out._

Angseth had been waiting to learn how to use her Morph Ball form because everyone else here had one, and they seemed to always have a lot of fun. Ryan had then led her to what she could only describe as a playground. It consisted of tunnels and mazes, with tall stone towers that flirted with the edge of the atmosphere. Moving in large multi-colored flocks were smaller spheres. They rolled into and out of tunnels, up half-pipes and down again, and the air was thick with Chozo laughter. Angseth stood there for a moment, looking out over this massive obstacle course for all these Chozo kids, and realized that the Confederation had a lot of catching up to do.

That was about the time that Angseth felt a large clawed foot land in the center of her back. Ryan planted his talons between her shoulder blades and gave her a nudge. Angseth lost her balance and stumbled over the edge of the half-pipe she was standing on. As she dropped over the edge, she felt what she could only describe as a shift. For a moment her perceptions shifted, and her body became weightless. She hit the wall of the half-pipe, and realized that it was a friction-less surface. She felt only some minor jarring, but nothing compared to what she had been through recently. Her body felt smaller too.

That was about the time when the next wave of Chozo kids rounded the corner and came flying at her, giggling and bouncing. Angseth held her hands up and panicked. There was another shift, and she found herself standing upright on the floor of the half-pipe, which was decidedly not frictionless. Her hands still up defensively.

_Had I just been a Morph Ball?_

The flock of Chozo kids passed by her as easily as if they knew that she would be there. Angseth looked up at Ryan, who stood with his arms folded and smile on his face. He then signed to her, _You better go catch them._

Angseth turned and watched the multi-colored horde bounce and roll away. Later Ryan would tell her that there was a smile on her features that could only have been made of pure wonder. Okay the shift. If she could remember the way the shift felt, then maybe she could do it again. It was a lot like shifting into a higher gear in her car, like going from neutral to first.

She was smaller again, and the surface around her frictionless once more. She went to look down at her hands, only to discover that she couldn't move her hands to look at them. She could see all 360 degrees. _Okay, so how do I move now?_

Even though she couldn't see her hands or feet now, she still knew that they were there. Since they were there, couldn't she use them? Vera started walking, and she moved. She didn't just move, she _rolled._

Excitement spread through her as she began to run, and the sides and slopes of the tunnels began to rush past her. It didn't take long for her to understand the mechanics of movement in this form. The faster she ran, the faster she rolled, however if she stopped running, she could coast, much like on a bicycle. Which brought her about to her next dilemma, how to stop. At first she just let her momentum run out, but then realized that if she made a conscious effort to stop, she could come to a grinding halt.

It didn't take her long to catch up to the group of kids. They giggled and laughed as she caught up with them. They, in turn, forced her to learn new movements very quickly. Like when she was pinned against the outside wall, how to give a momentary hop to break herself away from the group, or avoid some random obstacle. If she panicked or balked at an obstacle, it would break her out of her Morph Ball form. Also, smashing into each other hurt. Smashing into objects hurt, falling long distances hurt. She didn't gain any new armor, just a new way to move. At one point they rolled by a large pond, and the water was just still enough for her to get a good look at her new form.

She wasn't a ball per say, more like a tire with ball-like capabilities. In the center was a glowing core that she assumed was her conscious self, and around her fluttered a series of plates and interlocking chips, that created a surface for her to roll on. She was also a little bigger than the kids, but not as big as the adults that ran around here. She kind of liked the design. Different, but still functional.

Angseth played with the Chozo children for the better part of the day. From morning until early evening she rolled, jumped, flipped, and just had fun through all the different paths and obstacles the course had to offer. She wouldn't have quit in the evening, but older kids were coming to play and they were a little rougher. About the third time she had been bumped out of the half-pipes she called it quits.

Ryan apparently had spent the day conducting his business from a rock near the park. One eye always on Angseth, the other on whatever negotiations he was in the middle of. Vera stumbled up to him with a sheepish smile and a few new bruises. Ryan simply shut down his little collection of holo windows, and then gave her a healthy clap on the back. Angseth staggered and whimpered. _I knew that you'd get the hang of it. Samus would run that course over and over until she fell asleep on the obstacles._

The next two days were filed with so many adventures at the Chozo's expense. She loved to jog to the park in the morning and perform a couple of laps in her Morph Ball form with the Chozo kids. It became a morning ritual. Angseth currently sat in her own hot spring, basking in the warmth, and soaking her bruises and sore muscles away. The fragrant flowers helped to relax her mood, and from somewhere came music. She couldn't tell if it was a rock or flower or whatever device that played it, but there was music, and that's all that mattered to her. _I really wish Briar were here. I miss him terribly. Especially since there are so many cute Chozo here._

She dipped under the water, and let the warm fluid run through her hair, and over her scalp. She bobbed up again and sighed deeply. It was one of those relaxed contented sighs that would make Briars ears stand straight up and his eyes reduce to narrow slits. The sigh said that she was very happy right now. _Despite all this, I do miss the Mabus, my crew, all of my friends._

Earlier that evening she had opened the trunk with her new armor at Ei-Aiers request. It looked just like her old armor, no doubt about that, but even with a cursory glace she could see that it had more mobility and articulation points. Since she was already headed for a good soak, she didn't bother to try it on. She approached bath time as an opportunity to purify her mind and body before taking up her new weapons and heading into battle once more. A warrior needed to be calm, cool, and at peace with ones self to be most effective in combat. That and her back was screaming at her because some teenager on the Morph Ball course rolled through her little pack of kids earlier as if he were trying to make the initial break at the start of a game of pool.

Ei-Aier had told her that they would be leaving for Aether soon. Vera wasn't afraid to admit she was more than a little nervous. She hadn't been back to that world since the incident. There was no telling how things had changed, or what things had stayed the same. Or even what kind of nightmares awaited her once she got there. Like the wedding, her own imagination or memories would be the worst enemy. But for now there was only the warm water around her, the sweet smell of flowers, and light music. For the moment, she had peace.

* * *

There was a clock above the door. The clock was digital, it kept standard time. No elaborations, no spinning holographic icons ticking away the seconds, only cold digits marked the passing of time. Angseth knew that she was in a chair outside the door, her hands held in strong cuffs behind her back. Her long hair was beginning to fall loose from the clip, and hung around her face in tight swollen curls.

_ How did I get here?_

She closed her eyes. Trying to push through all the blue-purple haze in her mind to the last clear memory. She remembered Aether. She could remember falling asleep in the Captains chair, and waking up to find other marines surrounding her. She could remember the med-labs, and how everyone was amazed how quickly she was healing. Hell, Vera herself was amazed at how quickly she healed. She had been debriefed, and allowed a few days rest.

She had then been told to clean out her locker.

Pieces began to click into place. She had been placed back on the Arcet, her commanding vessel, a much larger carrier that held a full complement of troops along with several battle-ready drop ships. The Tyr had been one of them. All of the troops lockers were located in one area. Each squad was given a section of lockers called a pod. When your squadron was out on patrol, you had to unpack your bunk, stuff all your worldly possessions in a duffle bag, and place them in a storage locker that had been assigned to your troop. Angseth had just been told to go and get her stuff.

Bravo hadn't been the only troop on patrol. This pod had been lumped in with four others, and they could be coming back at any time. Vera hoped that she didn't encounter anyone else. It would be bad enough to see the black ribbons on the nameplates of the other lockers, let alone risk shedding tears before an entire group of relative strangers. She had wanted to ask someone to escort her down, but soon realized that she didn't have many friends on this vessel. She had arrived here only a few days before getting sent on patrol aboard the Tyr.

This cluster of pods was quiet for the moment, and as she walked down the row of lockers she slowly read each of the nameplates. Each one had a black ribbon placed around them, a few had pictures taped to the front, or other signs of people having come and paid their respects. Federation protocol would leave the lockers untouched for twenty-one days, and then the contents removed and sent away to their various families. Angseth stopped in front of her locker, her name and rank plate out of place in this mausoleum. It was untouched, no pictures, no flowers, empty compared to the others. She reached for the keypad, and then stopped.

The keypad hung slightly loose, someone had broken her lock.

She quickly grabbed the handle and pulled the door open, her duffel with her clothing was still in there, and the one or two personal effects she had stored. Gifts she intended for her mother and father when she saw them again. Why would someone have broken in here? Outside of her traditional jewelry, there was nothing of value.

"So, how long?"

Angseth spun at the voice, startled. Her mind ran over her mental checklist for things that could have been missing.

Standing at the end of the row of lockers was a human she recognized, Brody's cousin. She remembered that Brody, like herself had been trapped in a colony with no way out. So he and his cousin had also run away to join the Galactic Federation Marine Corp. They were so close they were like brothers. Each had a shaggy mop of brown hair and deep, almost brown, eyes. Mark, that was his name.

Mark didn't look happy to see her. He wore the standard issue camouflaged blues, and a loose t-shirt. His booted feet were placed shoulder-width apart, and in his hands he held a data-pad. Angseth's eyes widened when she saw the data pad. It was her personal journal and logs where she informally recorded everything that had happened to her. Mark had broken into her locker just to get at her personal files.

"Give that back." Angseth breathed.

"How long Angseth?" Mark advanced on her, holding up the data pad. "How long were you sleeping with your Commanding Officer?"

"Give it back Mark." Angseth whispered through gritted teeth.

"No! I want to know why it is a little slut like you made it back without a scratch! Where is my cousin you bitch?"

Angseth moved to snatch back her journal, and Mark quickly stepped back, holding it over his head. "GIVE IT BACK!"

"Mark stop!" Came another voice, female this time. Angseth looked around to see that almost an entire platoon had gathered once the noise had started. Their heads peeked around the lockers curiously.

"I had always thought Exetor was a noble man," Mark snapped. "Too bad he had such bad taste."

"Mark!"

Angseth felt that old rage overcome her again. The dust from the Agon wastes still had yet to be shaken from the soles of her boots, and already someone was defacing the memory and names of her comrades that had all passed on performing the duty they were sworn to. She reached out and her hand rested on the locker nearest to her. Her fingers ran delicately over pictures of the smiling faces looking back at the camera with such hope and joy in them, the promise of life cut short. She looked up and set cold hard brown eyes on Mark. He sneered back, while the members of his platoon either took a step back or rushed forward to prevent the inevitable fight.

She had fought the Ing, the Pirates, and even a Metroid in the past week. One loud-mouthed nosy Private was not going to be a hassle. Her first punch connected solidly with his jaw. The world then suddenly became clearer as the colors around her seemed to brighten and grow more intense. Mark fell to the ground, and Angseth kicked, his body jumped from the ground where she grabbed him and threw him through a wall of lockers. Even with her dense-world background, it didn't warrant her being this strong. A shout went out through the cluster of pods, as more troops came in to either witness the fight or attempt to stop it. Angseth moved fast, before Marks body hit the ground she was on top of him. She landed blow after blow on his face and chest. She felt hands grab her shoulders, she shook then off, or threw them away. Before long she felt the mechanical grip of power suits as they grabbed her and lifted her from Mark's bloody body. She screamed, kicked and fought with anyone that came close. Three fully armored Marines finally wrestled her to the ground, and pinned her arms to the side. She cursed and bucked as other marines in various stages of armor assembly came to stand guard or haul Mark's beaten body away. She felt a sharp prick in the meat of her right arm as a medic injected her with enough sedative to knock a Sheegoth out for a few days. Her body became lucid as the power suited Marines slowly let go. When the fight had gone out of her, she cried.

The digital clock over the door still kept time as the memories returned. Understandably, memories of the brig and subsequent lines of questioning were blurred.

_ Did I kill him? Do I even care if I have? He shouldn't have said those things. He deserved everything I did to him, that and more._

The door buzzed coldly, startling her out of her thoughts. She looked up past the strands of her dark hair as a large shape darkened the doorway. From her vantage it was difficult to make out any discernable features, but she didn't wince at the sudden light. She had been through too much in the past two weeks to let anything like that bother her. At this point nothing could intimidate her. There was nothing for her here, in the Marine Corp. She had been saving up money for a ship, and after all this was over she fully intended to go solo, and the Federation could do nothing to stop her.

The mountain in the doorway held a data-pad aloft. The creature turned it's head a little to the left and let light fall across his features. Sweeping back from the crown and temples of his head was a vast assortment of horns. For a moment she caught a glimpse at deep purple eyes before he looked to the data pad in his hands.

"Private Mervera Diane Angseth." His said in almost an accusing tone. His voice was low and deep. She could feel it reverberate in the small hall and vibrate the bench she sat upon. "Do you have any idea who I am?"

Angseth looked away from him. She didn't have time for this. "No idea."

"No…idea…" He seemed to taste the words.

Angseth grit her teeth. She knew what he wanted to hear. "No idea, _SIR._" She spat.

"I am someone who has apparently wasted his precious time to come all the way out here to commend a Private that has survived one of the worst disasters in Federation Marine Corp history. Instead I find myself looking down at a little creature about to be on the wrong end of an assault charge." He stepped back into the room. "Get your carcass in here. I had hoped that the rumors of your foul temper were only that, rumors. I see that you need to do some maturing. Is that how you fended off the Ing and the Pirates? Sheer stubbornness?"

Angseth slowly stood. She could run now. Break the cuffs and never look back. Or she could step into the office with that dragon. But if she could hold out for a while longer, perhaps she could get enough money together to start bounty hunting. Practicality won out over a desperate move, and reluctantly she stepped through the door of the office.

The interior of the room was bright, lit by numerous lamps that had been bolted to the walls and shining upon shelves. Under most of them were small plants. Some had brightly colored flowers that seemed out of place in this room at the ass-end of space. The officer was seated at and around a desk. Now that she had a chance to get a good look at him, he looked like the result of a forced-breeding of a Centaur and a Dragon. His lower half consisted of a horse-like body covered in hard plate-like scales that had been covered with odd clothing, yet still within the standards of Federation uniform. He had cloven hooves, polished and lacquered to a shiny finish. His upper torso was long, and here he wore a standard Federation jacket. Around his right bicep were three bars, indicating that he was an Admiral. Angseth tried to count how many stars were in the bars to see if he was a ship, station, or fleet admiral. Instead she saw gold stars that formed a constellation. Orion.

This bastard was a System Admiral, the highest military rank possible.

She suddenly felt ill.

"Sit down private." He looked over a file hovering over his desk. "State your name and rank please."

Angseth spied a chair, then slowly sat down. "SPC Mervera Diane Angseth—SIR."

"I am System Admiral Mizzen."

Angseth tried to act unimpressed.

"Do you know why you're here?"

"I beat the snot out of some loudmouth Private."

"Good, we've got that out of the way. Since he is still in critical condition, he isn't talking. Thankfully, you made sure have enough witnesses. I want to know what the whole scuffle was about."

Her mind went blank again. She remembered sitting in the holding cell, her head and hands had ached and they still ached. Her wrists had swollen under the restraining cuffs. Good old-fashioned fist-fights did a number on the body.

"You don't remember do you?"

"I…"

"Disconnected voices. All you remember really is landing in the brig, loaded down with sedatives and suffering from a massive headache." He reached into a drawer in the desk and pulled out a data pad. He set it down on the surface of the desk, and slid it toward her. "Did this have something to do with it?"

Angseth felt her temper flare again. "Yes."

"Did that help jog your memory? Shake a few bolts loose?" He leaned back, and steepled his fingers. "Now tell me what happened, and take your time. I have all night."

Angseth studied the data pad. It had been deactivated, but she would bet any amount of money that he had already read it from the first file to the last. "Mark…is Brody's cousin. He…he had broken into my storage locker, and removed my personal data pad."

"Broke into?"

"The lock keypad had been pried off."

"Why would he have gone in there in the first place?"

"I don't know. But, he started to…accuse me…I think he was angry that I made it back, and his cousin didn't. He…called me, a slut, and other things."

"Why did he do that?"

"You've read it already, why do you think?" She turned pleading brown eyes toward the System Admiral.

"I read one entry where you mentioned Exetor. We will get to that in a minute. Tell me what happened."

"I asked him to give it back. And when he didn't give it back, I got angry. I didn't have time to play with him. It felt like he insulted the whole of Bravo squad. They weren't there to defend themselves, so I did it for them."

The Admiral seemed to think it over, then asked. "What was the relationship between Exetor and yourself?

"There was no relationship. It was a one-night stand. We met at a club on the Boston. I was out of uniform and so was he. We met, and hit it off, then parted ways. It wasn't until a few days later that I met him as my new CO. From then on everything was business between the two of us."

"Since Exetor isn't here to confirm your story, I guess I'll just have to take your word for it. But that leaves me with another problem."

Angseth tried searching his face for any clue of his thoughts.

"Every time I conduct a background search on you, I get the same confusing conflicting answers. Your file tells me that you are twenty two, however experience tells me that you can't be a day over eighteen."

"What difference does it make?"

"I would like to know how an eighteen year old got four years of experience under her belt."

The lie her father had told to get her in the Marine Corp had now been exposed. Sheepishly she admitted. "I'm nineteen."

The Admiral was quiet for a moment. "You hail from the Isrec mining rings, correct?"

She looked to her lap. "Yes."

"I'm going to make you an offer Angseth. An action like this is often rewarded with a dishonorable discharge, even for war heroes. For someone like yourself, the only place you can go to are those mines."

"Even if I am discharged, I will never go back to the mines!"

"There are quite a few things stacked against you at the moment. Insubordination, fighting, and your reluctance to assimilate into the status quo. Your hair is much too long for regulation Private."

"Regulation never stated a specific length."

"And its an attitude like that which will get you into more trouble." The Admiral grew quiet again, then spoke after a moment. "Rumor as it that you're a fan of Samus Aran, the Bounty Hunter."

"Doesn't take long to find that out."

His purple eyes scanned Angseth. "I remember Aran. I remember the day she came to my office to enlist."

Angseth's head lifted.

"I see that I have your attention now." He folded his arms. "You do remind me quite a bit of her—mainly your attitude. But there are many differences as well." He grew silent again, reading Angseth's young face for any tell of emotion. She looked much younger with her eyes wide and curious. "Aran was good, damn good. On the firing range and agility courses she was unmatched. Her C.O. was a good man by the name of Adam…He tried in vain to rein that woman in. He had a lot of faith in her. All this may be inspiring to you, a young woman looking for a role model. However I feel that you should know the whole story. True, Aran was unmatched in her skill, however she was wasteful. There were times in exercise runs where she would break formation and run ahead to complete the objective on her own. There were also numerous instances where she would grab the bodies of her teammates and use them as shields or triggers to spring traps. Aran was never delicate when it came to combat. Graceful, yes, but never delicate. It soon became all to clear, that even through all her skill, she was not a team player. There is only one person on planet Aran, and that is Samus."

Angseth scanned his eyes, remembering the sound of the rifle that had landed in her lap on Aether. That on subtle wave Aran gave her before she left for parts unknown. "Maybe…" Angseth bit her bottom lip. "Maybe that's the way it should be then! No wonder she broke out on her own! Only so much can be gained from ceaseless training!"

The Admiral suddenly stood, and reached out his clawed hand and grabbed a fist-full of Angseth's thick curly hair. Angseth didn't even have time to gasp before her face was slammed to the table. "You're not grasping what I'm saying Private. Aran cares only for herself." He leaned in, hissing through his teeth. Angseth tried to search her soul for some of the spark she had earlier, but it had left as soon he grabbed her. "Aran is no more than an outlaw, a vigilante. She quit because we would not quench her thirst for revenge. She never progressed beyond Private because she had no compassion for others. It broke Adam's heart to watch her go. To watch all that talent and skill go to waste for something as stupid as revenge." His hand twisted Angseth's mass of hair, forcing her to face him. "You also have that same talent, rough, but with much potential. Will you also break the sacred bond of fellowship to pursue foolish raids and quests? Yes there is money to be had, but many, many more enemies. You will never know peace or even rest for that matter. You will be nothing but a hired gun. And so I ask you Angseth, before I invest any more money and time into this pathetic mass of willpower before me,

"Are you a vigilante, or a Marine?"

Angseth tried to stop the tears, but the damn stubborn things wouldn't listen. She breathed her answer. "…reen…"

"What was that Private?"

That subtle little wave as Aran walked away played back in her mind.

"_I'm a Marine! SIR!"_ She shouted.

The Admiral let go of her of her hair. The clip had broken and now the bulk of it fell over her shoulders and back in long curly waves. Angseth pulled herself to a sitting position.

"Then start acting like one Private. You will go far, and your actions will be the deciding factor for many lives. You do have what it takes to lead, so stop wasting it. I'm recommending a transfer from the Marines to the Spaceforce where you will continue training in coms, and eventually a pilot. This helps both of us. You get to keep your job and I don't have to look at any more paperwork about morons who were bothering you. I'll also recommend counseling. If you take my offer Angseth, this incident will be officially recorded as medication in conjunction with post-traumatic stress. The file will be sealed, and it determination only be viewed if someone comes to me personally about it. Exetor's widow already has enough on her plate, the last thing she needs to know is that her man was sleeping with a teenager. If you reject my offer, they'll try to pin you with attempted manslaughter."

Angseth's throat felt dry, but she nodded slowly.

"And do something about that hair."

"But,"

"Please stick with regulation. You're leaving all those childish things behind you now Angseth. You are a grown woman in every sense of the word. Start taking responsibility like one."

Angseth slowly nodded.

"Dismissed."


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14:

"_In other news, complete pandemonium in the Senate today as representatives of Syren and its subsequent colonies protested the lack of protection against ever-increasing Pirate attacks. Senator Phillip Greyland had this to say."_

_ "What are we paying these immense tithes and trade taxes for? Syren is home to some of the Galactic Confederations most prestigious military academies, yet we currently have the least amount of ships patrolling our boarders! The attacks are increasing, and it's not just Gamma Fleet anymore! We now need more protection against raiders coming in from the border regions! Seven colonies have been lost on the periphery! Seven! Where are our guard forces?!"_

_ "The System Admirals remained quiet throughout most of the session, with Admiral Mirson taking most of the heat."_

After that comment, Angseth finally looked up from her book at the news feed. She had turned the holo on just to have some comforting distracting noise. Being in a darkened home with only the sound of leaves rustling and animals chirping outside made her feel a little edgy. She was station bred and born, without the comforting static hum of white noise, she began to feel a bit out of place. Currently, Admiral Mirson's red chubby-cheeked mug graced her holo and made her shudder for a moment. The man didn't so much as sweat, but sat there melting in full holographic glory. Normally she would say that he sweated out of sheer stress, but the man constantly dripped. Even at the wedding there was the ever-present dewy shimmer that graced his cheeks and neck. He sat at a table with the other System Admirals, and Angseth smiled when she rested her eyes on Admiral Mizzen. He sat with his head high and proud, and hands neatly folded before him. All the other Admirals were eclipsed by his massive form.

Angseth quickly hid her face in her book, almost as if the holo could transmit what she was thinking. She bit her lip, holding in the giggles, then looked up, her giggles suddenly left. The holo camera had zoomed in on Admiral Mizzen so that a full bust of his head hovered in space just a few feet away from her. Mizzen was looking at her. She knew that expression. He was looking directly at her. She had seen that first "get down to business" glare in his eye the first night she had met him, and now that glare was aimed directly at her. The holo changed to another news story, but the message had been delivered. She held the book close to her chest, and realized that her vacation was almost over.

Normally the _Mabus_ would have been patrolling the region where the Pirate attacks had occurred. However their little tangent to SR3-88 had disrupted that course of action. Vera did feel guilty that so many colonies had fallen. The _Mabus_ could have prevented those attacks. Earlier she had tried to send Briar the information she had on SR3-88-SOL, but the either the com channel had been disrupted, or something had broken. Every attempt came back with "source not found."

This had worried her. If the com lines were down, then that left the _Mabus_ vulnerable. She doubted that they would be in any trouble, but she didn't rule it out entirely. She hoped that Mizzen had some kind of plan when he removed her from command post to ambassador. Briar could handle almost anything, yet still she worried. Angseth leaned back and stretched out on the floor of her main room. The Sigel hovered in space just feet away from her, and her hair was still a little wet from her soak earlier.

The Syrese were understandably becoming increasingly pissed at losing so many colonies. The colonies didn't just represent lost lives, but lost income. A lot of lost income. Still no information on the Seattle, the only mention of the station in Aran's file had been that she was answering the SOS there. Admiral Mizzen's words earlier still ate at her. Why was she _here_ and not _there_ on her _ship?_

Footsteps on her front porch caused her to rise. The silhouette of a Lunimoth was easily visible in the artificial moonlight. "Coming," Vera closed the space between her book and the door, then slid it open. "Ei-Aier. Nice to see you, even though it's so late at night."

"I had wanted to come and see how the calibrations were coming on your new armor."

Angseth looked back at the trunk. "Honestly, I haven't even tried it on yet. I've been busy, playing." She smiled sheepishly.

"I understand. The Morph Ball course can be quite a delight when the children are involved."

Angseth held the door open and invited Ei-Aier inside.

"I'm pestering you because we leave for Aether tomorrow, and your armor has been designed to work in conjunction with your ship." Ei-Aier ducked through the door. "I am also very excited to see how it fits you. Many Luminoth scientists had worked very hard to create it for you. It was originally intended to be a gift when you returned to visit Aether."

"So this wasn't just a spur of the moment creation?"

"Far from. It has been in the making for the past two years."

"You're kidding!" She looked at the trunk on the floor. It no longer seemed like a generic storage container, but something new and wonderful. "No one has ever…I've never received this much attention before. First the custom limbs, now this armor? Ei-Aier, why do all this for me?"

"I don't know the Chozo's motives, but among the Luminoth, you are a legend."

"I did nothing to warrant-"

"You survived the Dark Ages. You survived when everyone else had perished."

"But that wasn't my doing! Aran is the one that saved your people! Not me!" She paused, realizing that she had balled her hands into fists. Vera calmed, slowly stretching her fingers out. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have yelled."

"Forgiven. You are passionate. I've seen that over time." Ei-Aier knelt on the floor.

Angseth went over to the trunk, ran her fingers over the locks, and then popped it open. The lid lifted, and she gazed down at the exposed helmet and shoulder pieces. All new equipment had a smell. Her last set of armor had smelled of electrical components and metal. Jones armor had stank of sweat. This armor was fresh, and didn't seem to have a strong electrical scent, or metal for that matter. Instead it smelled earthy, like stone after a rain.

Ei-Aier made himself comfortable, and then began another bubble of brewing tea. Vera would have made herself some earlier, but she couldn't figure out the mechanism.

She began to pull pieces of the armor out, each one seemed to have been made of a material as dense as any ship-grade plating, but lighter than her original armor. After a moment of examining the plating, she noticed that it was made of some kind of organic substance, it felt like a living plant in her hands. It had a hard exterior, like smooth tree bark, but with the same flat black color scheme of her armor, with more of a glossy finish. That wouldn't last long. She arranged the different components on the floor, then paused when she noticed a small arm cuff. "What does this do?" Vera asked.

"Oh, that is your centralized storage unit." The Luminoth answered. "You place it on your right wrist, then depress the blue jewel. Your armor should materialize onto you without a problem."

Well, that would make things easier. Vera slid the cuff on, The gem was located on the underside of her wrist. Vera pushed it, and it gave a satisfying click. Nothing happened. "I think it's broken."

Ei-Aier chuckled. "No, you need to initially don the armor, so it can remember where and how everything fits."

Angseth finished unpacking the trunk. As with all standard issue armor, there were several layers involved. The first layer was a jumpsuit of sorts. The Confederation had over come the awkward nature of this clothing, by making it part of the general uniform of any enlisted. Angseth carried this piece into her bedroom, out of Ei-Aier's view, and shed the light cotton-like pants and shirt she had been wearing. The jumpsuit was dark gray and black, with twin white bands around her right bicep, her Captains bars. She stepped into the suit, wearing only a pair of panties. A bra would be useless and uncomfortable once in full armor. The suit was tailored well, clinging to all the right areas, while remaining loose in some. Extra padding had been placed along her hips, inner thigh, and shoulders. The suit also had built-in support for her chest. Stirrups slipped under the feet, and another thin strip of fabric looped between her thumb and fingers. Built-in re-enforcements had been placed around her stomach and back, helping her with her posture, but not restricting her movement. Small elements like these often helped to reduce fatigue when wearing armor for long periods of time. The exterior of the jumpsuit was common enough. Rank, name, and other minor details displayed on her left breast, with a low collar offering a minor piece of decoration. One thing that seemed to be missing was the odd bulk of wiring under the fabric of the jumpsuit. This was the layer that contained the diodes and sensors that monitored her vitals, and relayed signals to the rest of the suit. Nowhere did she sense any stiffness that was customary for the innermost layer of a suit.

Angseth walked out into the main room, adjusting the sleeves of the jumpsuit.

"Most stunning."

"I must comment on the fantastic fit." She picked up the second layer that consisted mainly of padding and insulation against the elements. This was the layer that contained heating and cooling elements, it was also the bulkiest. However, like the jumpsuit before it, the weight and heft of the liner was surprisingly less than what she had been accustomed to. The mobility had also been improved. The liner had a thick skin on the outside, that had been traditionally made of a dragon scale-like weave with many small plates. It helped to serve as both insulation, and protection past the plating of the armor. The outer liner also contained many small contact points that the armor would lock onto. They stood out like small points of light on the black skin of the liner.

She sat down on the floor, then pulled on a pair of boots made of a foam-like substance. Immediately, the foam conformed to the shape and curve of her foot. The outer layer of each boot, also had the same contact points and scale weave as the rest of the armor. A matching pair of gloves soon followed. Now came the most difficult part. With both the jumpsuit and liner already on and fastened, actually attaching the plating would be another challenge. For that she would need Ei-Aiers help.

Before she could say anything, Ei-Aier stood, and picked up the central torso piece. Vera stood with her arms held out in front of her as Ei-Aier slipped the movable plating over her arms, chest, stomach, and groin. He drew the piece together in the back, and locked the contact points together. The armor felt loose, allowing for plenty of wiggle-room. Almost too much.

"Is all well? You seem distressed." Ei-Aier asked.

"Its loose."

"For the moment, as soon as all the pieces are in place, it will pressurize to you for a perfect fit."

"I'll take you on your word." She sat on the closed trunk lid, and pulled on her new leg pieces. The thigh plates wrapped around and sealed seamlessly in the back. A boot-like piece covered her from the knee down. Ei-Aier helped her to slide her arms into long loose sleeves, that tightened enough to hold them in place. Angseth caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror, and giggled. She looked like some kind of bug ready to take flight. Now that she examined the armor almost fully constructed around her, she realized that many of the plates had not yet locked into place. The helmet itself lay open in several interlocking pieces. She lifted the shoulder pieces, and fixed them to a brace near her neck.

Ei-Aier picked the helmet up, then placed it on Angseth's head. Vera heard a low whine in her ear, and the helmet clicked shut, followed by the shoulder plates clamping shut. The rest of the armor followed, each piece locking down in succession. Vera felt a tightening from head to toe as the pressure in the suit equalized. She heard a light tone near her ear, and watched fascinated as the HUD began to boot.

"How do you feel?"

"More surprised than anything." Vera examined her hands and arms through her new suit. "Everything is checking out okay. I'd compliment on the quality, but then what should I expect from a hyper-intelligent alien race?"

"Not hyper intelligent, just more experienced." Ei-Aier smiled while lifting a bubble of tea to his lips. "You will be able to use your built-in power cannon through the suit, as well as your Morph Ball form. The suit will help to create higher defense for you in your alternate form. If you ever find yourself in space without a ship, then the suit in conjunction with the Morph Ball will be capable in sustaining you for almost a week. Do not attempt planet fall in this suit. All this information and more is located in a file on your main HUD."

Angseth smiled and pulled the helmet off. It opened under her hand allowing her to remove it, then folded back into a helmet once she tucked it under her arm. The movement in the suit was phenomenal, and it looked just like her old captains armor that Fredrick had taken away.

Ei-Aier spoke again. "Specifications have been included should it need repairing."

"Its not made of any technology the Confederation doesn't have access to is it?"

"They should have no problem repairing it."

Vera smiled. "So this is your basic throw-away technology then?"

"I wouldn't say 'throw away.' Its just a lower quality that what we keep for ourselves."

"I can't help but feel curious about what was said when the Confederation asked if they could purchase some of that technology."

"We told them that as soon as the Confederation reached a level to understand what the technology was _for_, then we would gladly sell it to them."

"Well put." Angseth reluctantly pressed the button on her wrist, and her armor left her body. She really wanted to go running all over Agartha again testing her new toy's limits. "I have been wanting a localized teleportation system for my armor for so long. The Confederation has the technology, but it's still too costly to use on a massive scale. Where is the armor stored when it's not in use?"

"To a bay on your fighter. It will also self-repair provided it has been given long enough to heal."

"Heal, that's an odd word to use."

"It's the only one I know of that would be accurate enough."

Angseth sat down on the floor, pulling her own little bubble of tea away. She looked around her little home, and sighed contently. It was nice here, but she wasn't ready to retire just yet. "And when I it the little blue gem again, it will come back on me in exactly the same way?"

"Yes."

"I guess I'm all ready to depart then."

"Good! We leave early tomorrow morning." Ei-Aier said with a smile.

* * *

The next morning Angseth sat in her fighter with scans of her ships systems running through the holographic displays around her. Some of the newly installed systems were causing alarm in her ships computer. It seemed that the Confederation OS was having trouble accepting the Chozo upgrades. After an hour of griping at different set routines, she finally had to settle for going through the troubled lines of code by hand and either manually override, or edit the code to accommodate for upgrades.

Ryan and Ei-Aier would be departing in a smaller Chozo vessel, and Angseth would follow in her fighter…that was the plan if the fighter behaved. She had so many questions for the two of them, however any probes into the exact purpose of her visit were met with time-honored question dodging techniques. The only answer she did receive was that her questions would be answered once they arrived on Aether. Vera had to take the pair of jokers at their word and stopped her inquiries.

Her last screen beeped an affirmative, and Angseth finally started her pre-flight diagnostic.

_ "I hear engines revving."_ Ryan said over the com. _"Finally get settled in?"_

"Yeah. Just trying to get all the different navigation and weapons systems to play nice." Angseth responded. "I should be ready to launch in five minutes."

The com link closed. Angseth could have been ready to launch now, but she was stalling. Part of her was terrified of returning to Aether, the other half wanted to go back if for nothing more than to visit a place where she had spent several defining days of her life.

The diagnostics finished, and Angseth reached for her steering grips. She hadn't returned to Aether since she had been pulled out of the drop ship twenty-some years ago. Part of her still denied the loss of all of her comrades, even so many years later. Maybe that was why she never really made an effort to make more friends. She had found it easy to convince herself that they had all been transferred elsewhere. In a sense that is what had happened, albeit in a metaphysical sense.

_ What should I do when I get there? Should I visit the places they had died? Leave flowers? Show my respects somehow? I had attended all the funerals, spoke to their families. I said my goodbyes already._

The engines revved and whirred. Angseth pulled herself from her thoughts and began paying more attention to the here and now. The thrum of the engines had become smoother, and they warmed much faster. "That's more like it,"

_ "Are you ready Captain?"_

Angseth hit the toggle for her com. "Ready when you are?"

_ "Once free of the Ariaia, we will create a jump portal. Follow us through it please."_

"Okay, so what's our ETA?"

_ "Roughly two minutes after passing through the portal."_

"Two minutes? Did I hear that correctly?" Angseth asked. "No wonder you won't share that kind of technology with the Confederation."

_ "I find it more amusing that you have mentioned nothing of the portal."_

"So? I've been through jump gates before."

Silence at the other end.

"Ryan?"

After a moment he spoke again. _"Just try not to think to hard on it young one."_

"Young one?" Angseth said indignantly. The com link had already closed.

Vera settled in her seat, and let her feet dangle for a moment. The Chozo vessel before her rose from the ground and began to silently drift away. "Bout time." Vera breathed. She gunned the engines, then shot after the two of them. The fighter now had more pick up and go than it ever had before, and Angseth _almost_ found herself in the first rear-end collision she had in years. She didn't bother to apologize. Luminoth and Chozo chuckles and caws at the other end of the com line were enough to put her on the defensive.

_ I guess I better take it easy from now on…no telling what those two jokers up there amped up on my craft._

She fell into formation alongside them, keeping her distance, yet still close enough to keep an eye on them. Vera had anticipated a much longer distance to be covered before they mentioned anything about jumping. There were no jump gates to be seen here. In her experience, jump gates had been large circular contraptions roughly a quarter of the size of most smaller stations. Vera was understandably surprised when Ryan announced they were about to jump.

"Where," She began, but stopped when a beam of light shot in front of Ryan's craft, and into a point on space. Vera felt her heart begin to ache as a familiar blue portal opened before the Chozo craft. "How,"

_ "Please follow us through Young One."_

Angseth was too amazed by the appearance of this gate than to argue the use of "young one" in reference to her again. The Chozo craft slipped through, and Angseth had no choice but to follow. Her body tensed as the nose of her fighter met the pool of shimmering light in space. The Aura of her ship met, and became engulfed by the light. This in turn seemed to pull her fighter in, consuming it.

She fought back panic as the ship leapt forward. Angseth's hands tightened on the grips. She felt as if she were breaking apart. Vera had never attempted a jump in a ship this small without a minimal Aura to defend it, however the experience on whole wasn't altogether unpleasant. This jump was a far cry from the roller coaster ride the Confederation gates provided. Aside from her conscious mind telling panicking about the new sensation, her body remained relaxed.

The jump was over quickly. By the time the stars stopped moving, they had already arrived. Angseth let go of the grips, only now realizing that she had them in a death-grip. She leaned forward with her head resting on her crossed arms. Any minute now she would start to feel the nausea, and there was nothing worse than puking in zero G. She waited a few minutes, and was surprised when the nausea never hit.

_ "Is everything well Captain?"_

"Yeah…whatever that was, it wasn't a space jump."

_ "Indeed it was not."_

"What was it then?"

_ "Localized Teleportation. With the assistance of our empaths and telekenetics, we can cover very large distances."_

Angseth froze, looking at the holo screen before her. "You're right. I shouldn't dwell to long on these topics." She sat up and began to examine her new surroundings. Her eye was drawn to a large orange-yellow sphere that her navigation systems told her was the planet Aether. The Chozo craft was already heading that way.

Vera didn't know what to expect before she arrived. Now she felt oddly calm. Her fingers slid into the grips again as she pulled her fighter around, and for the second time in her life, headed straight for Aether.

* * *

This was not the Aether she had left twenty years ago. Twenty years ago she only had memories of dust and sun, dried blood and dried tears. Some memories had stayed, the way a certain wall had fallen, or the way the wind had piled sand against a rock. Vera knew that the likelihood of any of those things still existing were very slim. Their ships headed for the Sky Fortress, an area that Angseth had never really been to. She had peeked inside once, but turned around when she found nothing of interest.

The Sky Fortress was no longer the empty echoing chunk of metal it had been in her last visit. In fact, nothing was the same. Even from this distance she could see color. So much color and light. As if these people were able to take light down into it's base spectrums and use it to paint everything they touched. She could see Luminoth moving around in the Sky Fortress through the many windows. Ships and vehicles of all makes were coming and going, some piloted by Luminoth, some by other races or species. All of them gave the Confederate fighter a wide berth. Angseth didn't blame them. Her fighter looked like a piranha in a goldfish pond. Completely out of place.

The technology here was a little easier to understand, perhaps because she had been here before, or maybe even because the Luminoth weren't as technically jaded as the Chozo. The more time she spent around these advanced races, the more she felt as if the Confederation was holding back. It was completely unnecessary to get into an arms race with anyone, however most Confederation technology seemed to be geared toward becoming more effective predators. _Maybe I just feel that way because I'm in the Military._

It was a blessing to have the opportunity to land on Aether instead of the atmospheric hazing she received last time. There was a nice large landing pad to the side of the station, with running lights guiding her in. From her preliminary scans, there seemed to be quite a welcoming committee. Angseth touched her ship down, and smiled when her landing gear locked into place. The screens around her flickered off, and the canopy opened.

The air was fresh, and smelled just like a flight deck should. She pulled off her helmet and walked down the wing of the fighter, then turned to the sound of cheering.

There were Luminoth, and a few other random races gathered on the flight deck, several of the Luminoth broke formation and walked over to her. Angseth wondered briefly if she should jump back into her fighter, but Ryan and Ei-Aier had cut off her escape. In the space of seconds a crowd of people, flashes and lighting surrounded her for holo captures and video feeds. She tried to put on her best public relations face, but knew that her general distress and unease of the moment would show in her eyes. Who were all these people, and why were they so happy to see her? Ryan and Ei-Aier had a lot of explaining to do.

The crowd parted and grew silent as a large and decidedly older Luminoth stepped through. He wore odd ceremonial armor, almost like layered tree-bark. He stopped before Angseth and began to speak in Standard.

"I am U-Mos. The last Guardian of the Light. Aether Welcomes the only Confederate survivor left from the Dark Age. This week we hold the Festival of Light, a holiday to celebrate the returning of the Light to Aether. We are honored to have you back with us, Sister Mervera Diane Angseth." At this point, U-Mos reached into bag it carried, and pulled out what seemed to be a golden transparent bubble. To Angseth it looked like a bag filled with gel or some other substance. U-Mos placed it in her open hands, and Angseth stared into it. Little did she know that this would be the beginning of the longest love-hate relationship she would ever have with a substance.

"Drink it." Ryan whispered. "All of it, in as little time as possible."

Angseth turned her attention back to the blob in her hands. It had a loose shell on the outside, easily punctured, and what felt like liquid on the inside. She lifted it to her lips, and bit a hole in it with her teeth. The outer membrane was made of some kind of glucose, and was very sweet. The interior liquid suddenly flooded her mouth, and she had no choice but to chug it or else spill it everywhere, which she guessed would be an insult to her hosts. Ryan caught the small whimper that escaped her throat, and quickly suppressed a smile. The golden liquid was bitter, yet sweet at the same time. With the first two gulps, Angseth realized that this was the most potent alcoholic beverage she had ever had the opportunity to dump into her body.

She somehow managed to chug it down to the last drop, and breathed heavily, while holding the little membrane in her left hand. Almost instantly she felt the familiar buzz overcome her. It was hard to get a dense-worlder drunk, but not impossible. U-Mos emitted what sounded like a battle cry and the rest of the crowd joined in. Angseth felt a hearty smack hit her on the back, and then the world began to take on a haze. She was being led away, to where she didn't know and didn't care.

Ryan watched as Angseth took two steps, then fell over, her face hitting the surface of the flight deck hard. To her credit she pulled herself upright, her cheek scratched and bloody. U-Mos helped her to stand, cheering the entire time.

_ Not even here two minutes and already I'm bleeding…wonderful._

* * *

Angseth had arrived on Aether at the beginning of the Festival of Light. The festival ran for an entire week, and recreated the events that led to the end of the Dark Ages. She was a kind of celebrity now, since the only surviving warrior of their battle with the Ing had been U-Mos. Now that she was here, the festival took on a different feel. Vera wasn't sure exactly what kind of celebrations took place, other than a lot of drinking and fighting. Ever since that little first bubble of mead hit her lips, she had not had one sober moment. Ryan explained that the drinking of a bubble of mead was a customary greeting and an honor. She had done well the first time. Drink it as quickly as possible, and don't spill it.

Considering how buzzed, and in pain she was already in, Angseth wondered exactly how much celebrating she could possibly handle. She was escorted off the flight deck, with much fanfare and ceremony. Meanwhile she was just trying to walk straight enough, and pause long enough to enjoy the scenery. Ryan had deactivated her armor for her, and that made it easier to walk. Using power armor while inebriated was fun, provided you had about five friends with you with no limit to their imaginations. Many years in Basic Training had taught her just how far one could go while inebriated and wearing what equated to a battletank. But right now she was trying to be graceful, she was a guest after all, and if this event was televised, she was sure that she had already made a bad impression by falling over.

The Sky Fortress was the center of Luminoth technology. The interior was basic with few architectural elaborations, and everywhere there was light. Light pulsing through tubes in the halls, holding platforms aloft, and even used for transport from place to place. After a few moments Vera turned to Ei-Aier and asked. "Dare I ashk about the light pathsh?" She didn't realize how badly the mead had affected her.

"Light is our element. It powers all of our technology, and is the tool that we have chosen. Humans had first used fire as their tool of choice. Fire had provided warmth and a means to power your vehicles."

"Oh," Angseth said, suddenly understanding. "I get it, and the Chozho ushed water."

"The ideals and morals of a race can be easily determined once you ascertain the element that drives them." Ryan commented.

Ei-Aier led her through the crowd of onlookers, to a capsule hovering in a beam of light. "Please step inside. This will take us to the Great Temple where we will show you your rooms."

Angseth stood looking at the hovering capsule, reluctant to step onboard. She didn't want to be so far away from her fighter in the event that something happened. _I'm being skittish. Old instincts don't fade away easily and being drunk has always made you paranoid._ However it didn't stop her from noticing a minor expression of thought pass between her two escorts. She couldn't quite place what thought had been conveyed, but it was enough to make her uneasy.

Vera stepped inside the capsule and sat down. This technology was familiar. Unlike the Chozo technology, it didn't hurt her head to try to reason how it might work. She gazed out the window as the capsule began to move. From this point far above, she could see the familiar rise and flat plains of Aether. It seemed that the Luminoth had recovered quite well from their stasis sleep, and many structures had been rebuilt in the last twenty years. There was still much room for growth and development, but what they had accomplished thus far was amazing. Below her she could see many houses and streets. Even though it had been morning when they left Chozo space, here the sun was well on its way to setting.

"This is a good time to arrive." Ei-Aier commented. "The festival begins tonight. Before sunset however you will meet with many dignitaries who wish to welcome you personally."

"An' lemme guessh, each one will want to share a bubble of mead with me right?"

"Correct."

By the time the sun had set, Angseth was beyond caring about anything more than sleep. She couldn't keep track of the revolving cast of multi-colored Luminoth. All she knew is that when another bubble of mead hit her hand she had to chug it down. She met with warriors, and numerous others, who she was convinced were as drunk as she was. Somewhere along the line she was sure she had gotten into a fistfight with one of them. Ryan or Ei-Aier accompanied her to various locations. By the time the last bit of light had left the sky, she realized that the entire city had erupted into one big party. Warriors ran through the streets wearing masks that resembled the Ing, while children ran forward to attack them and fend them off. Adults gathered in large public areas to drink and play music.

Somewhere through all this, Vera lost complete track of Ryan and Ei-Aier. Ryan never drank, but by this time Ei-Aier had joined the festivities. Ei-Aier had been the one to pull her out of the stuffy rooms of the Great Temple and into the streets where the main bulk of the partying occurred. Loud music, shouting, dancing, fighting, all taken through the filtered haze of the alcohol. The press of many insect-like bodies was a little disturbing, but nowhere did she receive a chilly welcome. Every bar or dance hall she managed to stumble into pulled her in with open arms and even more mead.

She did recall the brawl however. Something had gotten started near the early a.m. hours, long after the kids had cleared the streets, and mainly the adults roamed around. Many of the bars had closed down, but there were still pockets of celebration in parts of the city. Angseth had been drawn to one of the louder areas, the sounds of loud music and drums filled her even before she had reached the epicenter.

This particular party had been set up in what looked like a coliseum. One large open circular area with a steady crunch and jostle of bodies. Many of the Luminoth present had removed their Ing masks, and danced in a way that could only be described as moshing. The light in this area was low, with red and purple glowing paint tracing the exoskeletons of the Luminoth present. Many hands immediately reached from this undulating mass and pulled Angseth into it's collective. She lost herself, jumping and screaming along with those around her. Either someone told her, or she just knew, these were the descendants of the warriors who had fought against the last wave of Ing, and in this moment, their ancestors had spiritually possessed them. Vera was never really good with empaths, but she had enough experience with them to recognise the flow of energy when she needed to. This entire space was alive with a massive amount of energy, either summoned through their technology, or just through the unification of spirit with those around her.

Hands constantly reached out to support her, and pull her further into this vortex of bodies and light. The haze from the mead had faded, and now there was only the steady rhythm of drums and warmth from those around her. She closed her eyes, and let her herself go, let herself embrace the energy. The smell of dust and dirt suddenly came to her, mixed with the scent of ship exhaust and the lubricant she used on her rifle. There was also another scent, a scent she could recognize out of million others even after so many years.

Exetor's aftershave.

Angseth opened her eyes, and found herself alone in the arena. She stopped mid-step, frozen for the moment by the sun high in the sky, with dust and dirt under her feet. It had been night before. Well into the night with still some time to go before daylight. All traces of the Luminoth had gone, the land around her had been reduced to rubble, just as it had been the first time she had come to Aether. She turned when she sensed someone behind her, and froze.

Bravo squad, all of them, stood in a cluster with her.

Angseth's left hand immediately pulled in closer to her body while her right covered her mouth. They wore their power suits, with helmets removed. "Guys?"

Her friends smiled, and Exetor held his hand out for her to take. "I hear you're a Battle Cruiser Captain now. Good work."

Vera's eyes began to fill with tears. "Guys…I…I tried…" she felt as she had twenty years ago, reduced to frustration, once again the child in this group of warriors.

"Hey look, shit happens."

"But…" Angseth wiped the tears away. "I've missed all of you!" she took Exetor's hand. "I never stopped loving you, all of you, I'm so sorry, I wasn't any use to any of you!"

Exetor took her chin and tilted her head upward. Angseth once again lost herself in his blue eyes. "I had put you on guard duty for a reason Vera. I knew we were screwed, and that was the deepest stronghold we had. Please forgive me," he smiled sadly.

"I do, if you could…forgive me…" she closed her eyes, and more tears streamed down her cheeks. Angseth leaned into Exetor, her cheek resting against his armored chest.

"Angseth, you've been forgiven for a long time," he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "Remember what I had said to you, and keep it close to your heart. You're gonna need it."

She wanted to see them all again, to run up to each one and tell them how sorry she was. Suddenly there was a fist buried in the side of her face, and the scent of Exetor and the smell of dust and blood left her. Once again she was immersed in the crunch of Luminoth bodies. The sound of howling wind had given way to the steady beat of drums, and some damn bastard had just delivered her a devastating right hook. Angseth felt the pain travel through her jaw and into her neck and shoulders as her head jerked suddenly to the side. She didn't have the forethought to roll with it.

Vera turned slowly and locked her eyes on the Luminoth who had punched her. Her family had been taken away once, and she would have done anything to see them again. Ripping them away a second time was unforgivable. She planted her foot and cocked her right arm back, and let loose. Her rage spread through those present like electricity through water, and it wasn't long before the mosh pit had turned into one massive brawl. The warrior spirits absorbed and later dispersed the anger, but not before re-living one last good flesh and blood fight. As Angseth fought her pain away, she began to realize why she got along so well with these people. A fight was a good fight. They enjoyed the drinking, and the loving, and the living. They, like her, connected most with the physical side of life. The Chozo were loftier in their ambitions, jaded in their ways. A fight for the Luminoth was a fight, no hard feelings, but a game to be played. Skill against skill. Through the brawl, Angseth found others cheering her on, as she in turned cheered on others. It wasn't long before another bubble of mead landed in her hand, and she drank deeply, enjoying the bittersweet taste of victory, defeat, and life.

* * *

Briar already had his hands full with the comings and goings of the ship, when the communications went dead. That lead to a week spent in an entire communications blackout. No information was coming or going, even all contact had been lost with the _Regal_ and _Socrates_. Short of using morse code in the form of blinking lights along the hull of the _Mabus_, they were blind.

Two days ago the _Socrates_ had stopped sending down probes. The final count Briar suspected was hovering somewhere in the thirty-five to fourty range. That was a lot of material to send down to a barren planet. Any inquires before the blackout were met with lectures peppered with jargon and other evasion tactics. There had also been that final message he had received from his captain that did nothing to set his mind at ease. Thomas wasn't much of a help either. He had sent over teams of people to examine the _Mabus_' systems, but they didn't find any answers. Briar would have bet that someone was jamming their systems, but if they were getting jammed, the jammer was good. Flawless, with an inherent understanding of coms. Angseth would be able to sniff it out, it had been one of her specialties…then again, what couldn't that woman do?

Briar had kept the crew on high alert. He didn't like sitting here, waiting. He didn't know what it was they were waiting for. Supplies, bad enough as is, were now starting to look a little thin. With the coms system down, there was no way to call for help or a replacement vessel. He didn't sleep very well that night. He couldn't shake this feeling of impending doom hovering over them.

The next morning he awoke, dressed, and walked to the bridge. The tension in the air felt like a tangible cloud. He had never seen so many of his crew this nervous and scared. That was dangerous. He needed something to relax them or things could get much worse. He quickened his pace toward the bridge, then stepped inside and floated up to the captain's chair. It took a moment for him to notice that the main screen no longer displayed the stand-by, instead it displayed a news channel.

"Why didn't you tell me we had gotten a feed?" He called out.

"It just came on sir. Right before you walked in."

Briar watched the view screen, and felt his ears flatten against his head.

_"The Draco sector has just withdrawn their membership in the Confederation in protest to the lack of military presence in the frontier regions. Recent Pirate attacks on seven colonies have prompted this extreme action. System Admiral Mirson has resigned from his position as military leader of the sector. The Draco sector now wishes to be known as the Republic of Syren…"_

_"About time this came a head eh?"_

Briar snapped his head around to find the source of the voice. A small holo displayed Thomas's bust, and his now familiar idiots smirk. Except this time the smile reached his eyes. The little brat seemed excited to witness the chaos at hand. "Do you have any idea what this means?" Nevada asked.

_"Oh, I know exactly what it means."_ Thomas smiled again, and the confidence behind it made Briar's hackles raise.

"Captain," Bagra called out. "We've just received an SOS. From one of the border colonies."

_"Well, there's the first one. A taste."_ Thomas commented.

Briar turned back to Thomas. "How did our coms become suddenly restored?"

Thomas' smile changed. It was no longer the smirk he had been familiar with all along. His entire expression seemed to melt into something else, something more sinister. That expression had the weight of many years behind it, all punctuated by his blue eyes, almost unnaturally blue, the color of stars they could not venture near. Thomas spoke with a different voice, and an air of authority. If he weren't in such dire straits at the moment, Briar could almost admire that.

_"Tell me Lieutenant,"_ Thomas leaned back in his captains chair. _"Where is your Captain?"_

"Even if I knew I would be reluctant to tell you."

_"Oh dear."_ Thomas hit a button.

Another SOS appeared in addition to the first. Briar read through that one. Another boarder colony…and dated well over a month ago.

"Sir," Bagra sounded nervous.

To let an SOS go answered for that long was unforgivable, to even have such a message mentioned and recorded in their main computers was an automatic jail sentence for the entire commanding crew. Briar turned toward Thomas again. He could sense where all this banter would eventually end up. "Why have you been jamming our coms?"

_"I'm asking the questions right now Lieutenant. I do have a fondness for you, which is why I'm letting you live for the moment. I have no use for a ship with a crew like yours, I only want Angseth."_

And for the first time in weeks. Briar was happy Vera went on a little adventure. "I have no idea where she is," he replied.

This answer did not satisfy Thomas, and another SOS appeared in addition to the first two.

_"In that case, I hereby impress the Mabus into service of the Syrese Republic."_

One of Briar's ears twitched. He was right about the mole. He had just hoped that it wouldn't be that obvious. Thomas had been out here waiting for the Syrese to withdraw from the Confederation. Thomas was now a Syrese officer, and Briar was now very deep into enemy territory. He took a moment to scan his radar systems. The _Socrates_ was nowhere to be found. "Where is Svenson?"

Five more SOS signals alerted his screen. _"What did I say about asking questions Lieutenant?"_ Thomas sneered.

"No. The _Mabus_ is a Confederation vessel. I will not allow it to be taken into custody!" Briar shouted.

_"Temper, temper."_ Thomas looked away for a moment. More SOS's graced his screen. _"Now listen. Make your decision wisely, because quite frankly, you don't have a chance in hell of making it back to Confederation space before your little ship is blown to pieces. Join me, and live, or try to go on your own and be either captured or destroyed by the other ships policing the system."_

The load of blocked distressed signals would guarantee that the _Mabus_ and it's crew would be apprehended at any station they could dock with to refuel. This trap had been a long time in the making. Briar reached for his com button. "I think I'll take my chances. I wish you the best of luck Captain Thomas."

Thomas smiled again, sinister and unnerving. _"I'll be kind and give you a three _

_minute head start before I fire upon your enemy vessel. I have my orders."_

"Captain," Osa called out. "The _Regal_ has locked their main cannons on us."

"Raise shields, and get us out of here."

Serec's voice came loud and clear over the com system. _"About time we got the phone back on. What's up?"_

"We need all the power we can get behind us, don't argue with me Serec this time, please!"

The engines whirred to life on the _Mabus_, and like the _Socrates_ before it, put as much space behind them and SR3-88 as possible.

* * *

"Here you are."

Angseth awoke with a start. For a moment she sat disoriented, and cold. She had curled up in the fetal position, her coat pulled tight over her shoulders and back, her feet tucked in tight with only the barest hint of her boots peeking from the hem of her coat. She was sitting upright, leaning against cold stone. She opened her eyes fully to find Ryan kneeling before her. The wind suddenly came strong behind her, blowing sand against her back, and parting Ryan's feathers for a moment, revealing his scales.

Something about those scales awoke a beast within Vera's heart. She had been lusting after Ryan ever since she had first met him, and now it was getting harder to deny.

She shook those thoughts loose, then unfolded her legs. Her back along with every other muscle in her body protested. "Ow…" Where exactly was she anyway? She knew that she hadn't made it back to her room, she had been to drunk to even think about finding the main temple. So why did she decide to pass out in the open like this? Once she turned to examine the stone she had been leaning on, she received her answer.

Vera had fallen asleep on the memorial for the lost Confederation Marines. To her right was a list of names of everyone in Bravo squad, along with numerous Luminoth data glyphs hovering in space around her. She paused to read them, and her name wasn't among them. Why would it be? She had survived.

Angseth stretched her legs out, then leaned back against the stone, looking out over a wide plaza of sorts. Ryan sat down next to her. "You need to return to the _Mabus_." He said softly.

"I thought I was supposed to stay here. Did Mizzen send new orders?"

"No. But you need to return regardless." Ryan sighed.

She remembered the night before, her vision of everyone in Bravo. How drunk had she been? Was it real, or did she only see them because she had been so desperate to tie up loose ends? "Ryan,"

"Yes?"

"Have you ever had a mate?"

Ryan grew quiet before answering. "Yes. Long ago. His name was Siairus."

"Are the two of you still together?"

"No," Ryan answered quickly. "He died. Killed by Ridley on K2L."

Angseth did some quick math. "Then you lied to me about being Aran's brother."

"There are many things I could not tell you. There are many things I still can't."

Vera thought for a moment. "Tell me about him, Siairus."

Once again Ryan paused. "He was beautiful. I doubt there will ever be another of our kind quite like him. He was very intelligent. One of our leading scientists. When he was very young, he invented what would eventually become the Varia suit. His grasp of Bio-mechanics was unparalleled. He had an almost instinctual grasp of biology, and knew just how to apply it to mechanical means. Chozo technology had always been very nature oriented, but much of our technology to that point had been with plant-life. Siairus had managed to imitate organics with god-like efficiency. The thing that made the Varia suit an instant staple in our arsenal was the development of an artificial nervous system within the suit. Things of this nature had been attempted before but not to this extent. In turn he was able to design it to give the suit maximum mobility and have it respond to its wearer. The suit also had the unique ability to bond with its users bio-rhythms. When he was killed, he had just perfected the basis of what would become Variable Form Technology."

Angseth turned to look at Ryan. She remembered those Pirate vessels, how they reformed after getting blown to pieces.

"Ridley killed Siairus, and took the technology from him, along with a new suit he had been making that utilized that technology. I am authorized to tell you one thing Angseth. That winged beast that you've seen so many times is not Ridley's true form. That is the power armor he had stolen from the Chozo people."

"But it's so…organic."

"Exactly. It is capable of self-healing if only a fragment of its user is still present. That and an unchecked power well within it make it quite deadly." Ryan chuckled. "I find it funny that if things had been slightly different, then Aran would be known as the Space Dragon, instead of wearing the now familiar Varia suit."

Angseth thought over this for a moment. "Ryan, can I ask you to be sincere about one thing?"

"I'll try."

"I still can't pinpoint down if you're male or female. What are you?"

Ryan's feathers ruffled. "Why does that matter?"

_Yeah, why does it matter?_ Angseth thought. _It matters because I think you're cute._

Ryan seemed to pause for a moment, almost as if he had heard her thoughts. "This is not the time or place. I came to find you and escort you to your ship."

"What's going on?"

"The Draco system has just announced a withdraw from the Confederacy."

Angseth shot to her feet. "Shit, I didn't think he would do it this soon."

"If you mean Admiral Mirson, no. The Syrese Republic withdrew on their own. Mirson has since stepped down."

Vera froze. "Then…he doesn't have Aran in custody."

"Pardon?"

"Mirson doesn't have her. If he did he would use her as a bargaining chip, and for that he would need to keep his position…Unless he has other connections." Angseth thought it over, and wasn't getting very far with her train of thought due to her hangover. "I need to go."

"That you do." Ryan stood next to her. "We are very sorry that you need to go so quickly. Your ship has been readied."

"Did Mizzen ask you to come and get me?"

Ryan fixed his eyes on her. "No. This order came from the Chozo High Council.

We need Samus back. You need to find him."

Vera sighed, again with the Him pronoun. "I need to get back to my ship."

Ryan didn't like how Vera had just dismissed his order. "I don't think you understand. Angseth, what I'm about to tell you must not be relayed to anyone else." Ryan stepped in closer. "As we speak, both sides of the Chozo are arming themselves, especially since the withdraw of Draco sector. If Samus is not returned soon, safe and of sound mind and body, they will find him." His voice dropped. "By any means possible."

"You can't."

"I've tried to dissuade any concrete plans, but that cannot hold out for long." He breathed. "You were brought to Aether as part of the celebration yes, but my true motives were to get you away from prying eyes."

"I had figured as much." Angseth reached up and held her head. This hangover was getting progressively worse due to the stress building in the air. "Why me though? I've given you all the information I have, why do I need to be the one to find her?"

Ryan's general appearance seemed to sag. All of his feathers and robes seemed to simultaneously droop, as did his head. He looked away from her, at the marble tiles around them.

"Ryan, what do you know that I don't?"

"Due to your unique…gifts. You are the only one who can." He suddenly straitened, shaking his head a little adding some fluff to the feathers. "I've input my contact information in your fighter. Please keep me posted. When you find her, summon me."

"I don't know if I can do that. If she is indeed in Confederation territory, I can't just invite an enemy force in to retrieve her."

"That is a decision you will need to make when the time comes."

"Ryan, what aren't you telling me?"

"We need to go."

"Ryan, please. What gifts? The morph ball? My new weapons? What do you mean?"

"Gifts you have had all along Angseth."

"Dammit! Stop the riddles! You want her back, give me a straight answer!" Vera yelled.

Ryan turned on her, feathers standing up, appearing equally terrifying as handsome. He reached out and grabbed the collar of her shirt, then pulled her close. "Stop," His voice was gentle. "Please stop you beautiful, stubborn, strong willed creature. I've given you all the information I can. Leave it at that."

Even though her toes had left the ground, Angseth still found enough confidence in her to stare into Ryan's eyes, the color of all the green forests in the universe. His beak touched her cheek, and he set her down again. Angseth closed her eyes and held still as Ryan's beak ran delicately over her cheek, followed by soft scented feathers. He paused, and she rested a moment, savoring the sensation of his warmth and his pulse. Clawed hands delicately rested on her opposite shoulder as Ryan whispered in her ear.

"I am what those in your race would call 'female'."

Vera didn't find this surprising in the least. But she did feel disappointed.

Ryan let go, and began walking at a swifter pace. Vera watched for a moment, suddenly guilty about her behavior. Away from her mate for so long, and already she was flirting with "exotics." She picked a stray feather off her sleeve and after a moment of contemplation, tucked it into her pocket before running after Ryan.

True to their word, her ship had already been prepared and engines warmed when she arrived on the flight deck of the Sky Temple. Ei-Aier stood by along with the Luminoth from yesterday, well, one of them.

"A pity you must leave so soon." Ei-Aier said.

U-Mos escorted Angseth to her fighter. He placed another bubble of mead in her hand before saying. "A token. Will you return next year for the celebration?"

"I'll definitely give it a try." Angseth set the mead in a storage compartment. If all went well she would split it with Nevada on the ship.

"Next year then." U-Mos held out his hand, and Angseth shook it firmly. He stepped back as the canopy on her ship closed.

After Angseth's fighter had left orbit, her ship notified her of an incoming message. She didn't know who would be paging her at this very moment, but answered anyway. The message wasn't of a visual feed, but a simple text message.

_To: Captain Angseth_

_ From: Weavel_

_ Meet with me at the refueling depot "Oasis". We have much to discuss and not much time to waste. Send an accept or deny immediately._

That was unexpected, but Weavel was someone she had wanted to speak with anyway. How far could she trust a bounty hunter? She had trusted him with her life on Tallon IV, and he had done the same with her. If nothing else, it was worth a shot. She sent a reply, then set a course for the Oasis. Weavel was right. If the Chozo had already started to arm themselves, then they didn't have much time to lose.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15:**

Two days had passed since the _Mabus_ had left the orbit of SR3-88. Two days of dodging and avoiding ships and stations loyal to the Syrese Republic. Briar was almost at his wits end. Strategy and diplomacy had always been his strong points, but neither of which seemed to be helping much of late. The Syrese were extremely skeptical of anyone flying a Confederation banner, and while they had yet to outright attack the _Mabus_, they made it quite clear that they either join or move on. Briar had sent reports to Admiral Mizzen twice, and both times his signal had been interrupted, compromising the _Mabus_' position. That had resulted in minor skirmishes in which he had barely made it out with the ship intact. The battleship was beaten, and the crew weary from constant alert status. Briar had been studying past logs and star charts, searching for some kind of reprieve. Right now his options were limited. He could either stay and get captured by the Syrese, or head to the Frontier boarder regions and risk attack from Pirates or other vessels from the empires beyond.

Currently they were on an erratic course just this side of the Frontier. The _Mabus_ was almost blind. Communications were often crashing, and it was risky to run in full warp because that too would compromise their position and heading. If they could make it to the Cygnus sector, Admiral Leonisa could grant them safety to regroup.

_ Svenson had either known about all this in advance, or the man never sleeps._ Briar thought bitterly. _He could move quicker, his ship was lighter after off-loading all that crap. That bastard bailed out and didn't even bother to alert me._ He tried to find more pleasant things to focus on. If he kept focusing on the bad things, it would be only a matter of time before the _Mabus_ was finally captured.

A knock on his office door pulled Briar from his thoughts. That itself struck him as odd. No one really knocked anymore; they just hit the com or chime. Briar lifted his head from his hands and minimized the holo screens displaying the star charts he had been studying for what felt like days. He sat up and ran his clawed fingers through his fur. The knock came again and this time he answered. "Yes?"

"Its Coms officer Bagra, sir."

Bagra? That was unexpected. "You may enter."

The door slid open and Bagra stood on the other side, holding a tray and what looked like a teapot with a few cups. "I brought you some Char Tea sir, from my own private stash."

Briars ears picked up. Char Tea was native to his home world, and the smell alone comforted him. His mother would often make it at night before sending he and his siblings to bed. "Thank you Bagra," his voice revealed genuine gratitude.

Bagra stepped into the room. She hailed from the same world as Briar, and even though they were the same race, she came from another nation and region. She had light smoky gray fur with blue undertones, her body thin and lithe. She glided gracefully across the room, and set the tray down on Briars desk. Briar closed his eyes as the cinnamon-like scent of the tea drifted toward him.

"I have not had Char Tea in years," he reached forward and lifted one of the small cups into his hand. He stared into the cup, watching light blue vapor rise from the dark amber liquid.

"I've noticed that you have been under much stress of late. Have you heard from our Captain?"

"No. Not yet. I am a little concerned for her health, but I know that she is in good hands," Briars eyes drifted toward a holo on his desk of himself and Vera. It had been taken when they went to visit the gardens on Estertertia. Her hair had been almost shoulder-length; thick, tight curls had bounced all over her head like so many springs. She had been wearing some of the little jewelry she owned. Vera had once told him that the stones came from the asteroid she had grown up on. Small light blue chips that glowed with their own light. She still had then tucked away in her jewelry box in her quarters. He sipped the tea as Bagra poured herself a cup.

"Dr. Sakari had told me that the five cryo-pods we took from the Seattle have been examined. All five are human, and in stable condition. She expects them to awaken soon."

"That's good news," he set the tea down, then rubbed his forehead. "I've been struggling with a way to contact anyone. Just someone in the Confederation," he sighed, his ears folded back on his head as he grew more content.

Bagra refilled his cup, then topped off her own. "I think I might know a way to get a message through to Admiral Mizzen." She spoke.

"I'm always open to new ideas."

"Every time we've tried to send a message its been intercepted, and given away our position. I believe that is because the _Mabus_ has several direct communications lines on several different channels that use subspacial waves to transmit signals. If that fails, we usually use a psychic back-up boost from our espers."

"Standard practice."

"I suggest, that instead of using the same direct line, we instead create a message akin to a virus, that will travel through email until it reaches the main communications hub in the Orion sector. From there it will be sent to Admiral Mizzen. We would lose the benefit of a live feed however." She sipped her tea.

"A message in a bottle."

"Essentially."

Briar thought on it. It was risky, but at the moment they had no other choice. News feeds were completely out, as were other methods of communications. "How long until you can have it ready?" He asked finally.

"If I work with a few of our better minds in Engineering, about a day. I will need your message first."

Briar took another sip of his tea. "Lets give it a shot."

* * *

The Oasis was the nearest refueling depot. It was a small thing, dwarfed by many of the stations that Angseth had visited, yet this little chunk of rust in space wasn't without its charm. The bulk of the Oasis consisted of an asteroid; dragged out here by someone long ago from gods knew where. Attached to this lump of rock like some bad cybernetic implant were the shell-like hulls of different parts of the station. The Oasis boasted several eateries, sub-standard lodging, and parking locations for numerous craft that ranged in size from Angseth's small fighter to larger freight-hauling vessels. Large fuel cells had been mounted to the back of the asteroid. While the cells allowed for easy refueling, one way-ward missile and the entire complex would explode.

Vera guided her fighter in to dock, and received immediate clearance. The flight controller on the other end sounded as if he were nervous. Angseth guessed that it wasn't very often that military vessels came to visit the Oasis, at least not under peaceful conditions. She readied herself to disembark, and sighed contently as her armor closed around her. She wished that she had enough time to properly thank Ei-Aier and the other Luminoth for the wonderful gift. If she was alive for the Festival of Light next year, she would definitely attend. The mead had been delicious, and she wished that Ei-Aier had given her a crate of the stuff instead of just one bubble.

Her ship rocked as the docking clamps tightened, and the air around her pressurized. She popped the canopy, and stepped out, then resisted the urge to fold down into her Morph Ball and go rolling. As fun as it would be, the locals would not appreciate it. The other patrons of the Oasis paused in their routines. She now had no doubt that most of them had only seen the bad side of Confederation officers. Vera wasn't in the mood to challenge their opinions at the moment. She had come here to meet with a bounty hunter, and that sight would be strange enough.

Her body also ached. The armor had managed to smooth out her steps as she walked, but that didn't stop the occasional quake as it rippled through her system. She didn't know what had caused the pain. At first she had thought it was a hangover, but that would have vanished a few hours into her flight. This pain was different, it settled into her joints. Was there something else in the mead besides honey?

Vera walked through the lobby area toward a tunnel that she assumed led to the food court. She was hungry, and as long as she didn't order anything too odd, her system could handle it. She walked into the first place she saw. The atmosphere was as much as one could expect of a refueling depot. The walls were not covered in metal, but were a part of the asteroid itself. The table and stools were metal, and bolted into place. A bar took up most of the center of the room, and all along the walls were booths, some had patrons, most did not. First she stopped off at the bar and grabbed a menu, then sat down at one of the tables. She didn't see Weavel here yet, but she knew that if he were present, it wouldn't take long to find her.

Angseth removed her helmet as a waitress came to take her order. The staff appeared to be nervous, and Angseth didn't care. She was starving, achy, and here to spend some money. The waitress relaxed a little when Angseth removed her helmet. Humans didn't tend to disturb other races unless they moved in large groups. One human alone usually didn't cause much trouble. She had never been here before, and it would take the locals a while to grow accustomed to her. The waitress went with her order, and left Angseth with a glass of water.

The water tasted like it came from a rain puddle, but right now it was what she needed. Then again, after spending a few weeks with the Chozo, almost anything would taste terrible. Her food arrived quickly, some kind of meat-like protein buried in gravy with a few organic things she guessed could pass for vegetables. It probably came from a can, then warmed over. She tried not to think too much about it. It smelled good enough, and she hadn't had anything to eat for almost a day. She had just torn in when the welcoming committee arrived.

Heavy footsteps accompanied by heavier breathing stopped near her table. A pair of meaty fists slammed into its surface. Vera paused, her gaze left her pile of gravy to the fists on the table. The fists were connected to spiked arm braces, large olive green biceps, and crowning this whole comical scene was one of the most hideous troll-like faces that she had even laid eyes upon. The giggles were tickling the back of her throat.

The troll leaned forward, and only said one word in standard, and heavily accented. "_Leave."_

Angseth chewed once, swallowed, cut into her food again, and responded. "I leave when I'm good and ready to," she locked eyes with him. "So please get your huge, snotty, dripping, viscous, dirty, nasty, saliva covered face… away from my food."

The troll responded by grabbing both sides of the table, ripping up all the bolts, and throwing it to the floor, spilling Angseth's half-eaten meal. She watched her food hit the floor, and felt what could only be described a wave ripple through her. Anger, thick and tangible consumed her suddenly. The troll laughed, turning to his companions, all equally olive green and reeking of filth, and pointed to her meal on the floor. "Ya can eat dere Humie."

It was like a reflex. Vera sprang from her seat, and buried one armor-clad fist into the trolls nose. With her right hand, she grabbed one horn from the side of his head, and snapped it off at the base. The troll roared and collapsed to the floor. Angseth remembered someone had once told her that having a horn ripped off was much like getting a fingernail pulled out. Not fatal, but damn did it hurt. Yet she wasn't done. The anger intensified, how dare this pathetic excuse for a thug spill her meal and insult a _Captain_. With a howl, she used both hands to drive the trolls own horn deep into his right eye.

She had just started to twist when a weight slammed into her chest, knocking her from the troll's body. She flew backward, feet leaving the ground before coming to a rest on top of an empty table. For a moment her body buzzed and jerked. She looked up to see Weavel standing in the doorway, his right arm raised, and pulse beam charged. He had shot her.

Weavel then pointed his weapon toward the troll on the floor. _"Get out."_ He commanded.

The trolls companions quickly collected their fallen comrade, who hadn't stopped howling in pain since Vera had first jumped him.

Angseth slid off the table, and hit the floor about as gracefully as a sack of flour. She hadn't been hit with a stunner in a long time. If she kept still, the shakes would fade, and she would be able to move again. The anger was still there, except this time Vera had a rein on it. She fought it back, reasoning with it, pushing it back into its cage in the back of her mind. _Why had I done that? How did I do that? I've never been that strong before…Not even with a cybernetic arm could I have ripped someone's horn off…What happened?_

Weavel pulled up a chair, and sat at the table nearest Angseth. As he sat, the rest of the patrons of the small bar made a hasty exit. Soon, there was only the waitress, the bartender, one bounty hunter, and one Confederation Captain in the bar.

_ "I had guessed that you were crazy, and I was right."_

Angseth pulled herself to stand, sideglancing Weavel. She was supposed to meet with him, but the bastard had just shot her, then again, if he hadn't stopped her, she probably would have killed that thug. She composed herself and then sat down at the table with him. "He spilled my food," she said defensively.

_ "And for that he deserved to lose an eye?"_

"He'll think twice before attacking another Human."

_ "Private, you've just done what no other being in the universe could have done."_ The bounty hunter said smugly.

At the mention of the word "private" the anger flooded her field of vision again. This time she had a better grip on her actions. She controlled the anger, held tightly to its leash, then felt it wash away.

Weavel noticed a small warning light in his HUD. This Marine was emitting some damn strong radiation. It only took a moment for his systems to find a culprit.

_ Phazon._

As she settled, the radiation subsided to almost unnoticeable levels. Was this Human even aware of what was happening to her?

Weavel remained quiet as Angseth ordered another meal, and more water.

"You wanted to meet with me, and I'm here," she said after a moment. "I don't often speak with bounty hunters but you're an obvious exception."

_ "Right to business eh? I want to know what happened on FQ3-59."_

Angseth looked up at him. "That's classified."

_ "I know that Aran had given you a file. I know because she sent me the same thing. We were both on Tallon IV for the same purpose."_

Angseth lifted an eyebrow. "You know Aran?"

_ "I've been working with her for the past few years. She had broken contact with me shortly before answering an SOS on the Seattle. As far as I can tell, you are the last person she has spoken to."_

"I have trouble believing that she would speak to a Pirate."

Weavel gave a sigh over his com system for effect. _"I am not a Pirate, and I am not one of Ridley's men, not any longer. I am Siafu!"_

"Never heard of them." Angseth breathed.

_ "You will. Aran knew about us, and you will too."_ Weavel leaned closer to Angseth. The radiation had gone as suddenly as it had spiked within her. _"Neither of us have much time, but each of us has information the other needs."_

"For Aran's sake, I'm listening."

Weavel rested his hands flat on the table. _"Did you read the file?"_

"Not exactly. I didn't have time to translate it before the Chozo came. They read the file to me."

_ "Do you think they told you everything?"_

"No. The file was missing from all my databanks when I went to look for it."

Weavel nodded. _"Myself and Aran had been in contact for the past two years. I know much about her condition, and the file is a record of our combined information. She wanted to find a cure for what had been happening to her, and I used my contacts within Gamma to gather as much information we had on Metroids as possible."_

"I'm listening."

_ "The fact that she gave a copy of the file to you means that you should know, or can do something for her. What it is yet, I don't know."_

"That makes two of us then."

_ "Aran took on all the pros and cons of becoming a Metroid. We became allies only two years ago, in a botched hunt. By then she had progressed deeply into the mutation. She helped me in many ways. The first and foremost by assisting me in kicking Ridley out of my head."_

"Kicking Ridley out of your head?"

_ "I can explain that later,"_ he watched as Angseth downed another glass of water. Third one in this sitting alone. _"Together myself and Aran discovered that just like a Metroid, once she had been bathed in beta rays, her body would spontaneously produce a clone. Just as the first Metroids that Gamma fleet had experimented on, the first clones had a measure of intelligence. But as they created more and more copies…"_

"They lost a degree of intelligence. So what happened to Aran's clone?"

Weavel grew silent again, almost as if he were searching for words. _"It…had been the first and only time I'd seen her so distressed and horrified. She had fought those like herself before, but they had always been separate entities. But the clone was Aran exactly. Lost, confused, and very hungry."_

"So what happened?" She repeated.

_ "Aran was unable to, I tracked it down and killed it."_ Weavel breathed deeply. _"I've exposed my darkest secret, it's your turn."_

Angseth took another drink of water, and told Weavel everything that had happened since first seeing Aran on the Seattle. This was the full version, and the more she spoke, the more comfortable she became. That struck her as strange. Now that she thought back on it, from the very first moment she had seen Weavel on TallonIV, she felt some kind of odd connection with him. Much like the connection she had with any of her core crewmembers. It was that odd inherent trust she felt for Weavel. Did Aran have that same kind of trust for him? Everything about him was familiar, from the green-gray of his armor, to the reflective quality of his ovular faceplate, which he never removed.

Angseth finished eating, and the waitress came by to clear the table. So far no one had returned to visit the bar, which left Angseth and Weavel alone and in peace for the time being. "Okay, we need to figure out why Aran would have given us both files, and how that applies to each of us. Why give you a copy of information you already have, and me a copy of information I can't read."

_ "More importantly, I want to know what the Confederation wants with her."_

Angseth sat in silence for a moment, before asking. "Who else could possibly have access to this information?"

_ "Metroid related? Or Aran Metroid related?"_

"Aran Metroid."

Weavel thought, Vera mused that she could hear hard-drives whirring in his head. _"Ridley,"_ he answered. _"He is the only other one that knew."_

"One thing doesn't settle right with me. If he had taken root in your head, then why didn't he stop you from helping Aran?"

_ "He was curious. He wanted to know as much about the mutation as possible. It intrigued him,"_ Weavel said. _"In some ways, it was a help."_

"So Ridley, Aran, you and now, me," she remembered just how scary Aran had looked on FQ3-59. _Those Confederation ships had gotten there fast._ "Weavel, I need you to be as truthful as you can. Ridley is an arms dealer, yes?"

_ "He dabbles, the main weapon in his personal arsenal is Variable Form Technology. He tried to find buyers for that, but the market was too skeptical of it."_

"What if…what if he could present a weapon, that didn't need maintenance, collected it's own fuel, and the only thing you had to worry about was wiping it's brain fast enough to reprogram it."

Weavel leaned away from the table. He had no facial features, but Angseth didn't need to see his face to feel the shock rolling off him. _"I see."_

"They're cloning her. Somewhere out there someone is amassing an army of Samus Aran. But the question is who?" Angseth sighed and leaned back in her chair as well. "That's why she gave us both those files. She wanted us to meet. The information in the files are just a tease to get us to butt heads over this."

_ "Who would benefit the most from having her?"_

"Who wouldn't?"

_ "Confederation ships are the ones that came to get her."_

"Mirson's best men. Mirson has since stepped down. If he knew about it, he didn't want any part of it. And Syren did duck out of the Confederation pretty damn fast."

_ "Ridley has been making quite a hard campaign in the Draco sector lately. If he had just sold, or helped a force to acquire a new weapon, he wouldn't go attacking them."_

"You know a lot about Ridley's motives."

_ "You try having the guy live in your head for a while, and see where it gets you."_

"Point." Angseth searched her memory. She would have to break her promise to Ryan. "The Chozo are arming."

Weavel grew quiet. _"Damn…"_ he said finally. _"They don't have her. If they did, they wouldn't be angry,"_ he shook his head. _"I have all the information I need to work with. Anything from this point on is just speculation until I have some concrete facts."_

Angseth smiled. She and Weavel were very much alike.

_ "I have names, a place, and a time. I can work with that."_ He mumbled.

"So what do you propose we do?"

Weavel looked up at her. For a moment she caught a perfect reflection of herself in his faceplate. _"We? __**I**__ am going to look for Aran. You may do as you wish."_

"Like hell. I need to find her too. If I don't, there will be some very displeased Chozo."

_ "So we both have the same goal in mind. But you have something I don't."_

"And that would be?"

_ "A ship that you need to take charge of."_

Angseth bit her bottom lip. He had her there. "I do need to get back to them."

_ "You had better do it soon, especially if your ship is anywhere near Draco sector. Gamma Fleet has been having a wonderful haul of late."_

Angseth narrowed her eyes at him. "If you're not Gamma fleet, how do you know so much about them?"

_ "Wouldn't you keep tabs on someone if you knew they were after you?"_

She paused for a moment. Torn between going with Weavel to find Samus, and to return to her post aboard the _Mabus_. After a moment she reached a decision. "Weavel. Please hear me out for a moment."

_ "You have my full attention."_

"I do need to return to my post, and I will, but I want you to keep in touch with me. You have resources I don't, so in all likelihood, you have a better chance at finding Aran than I do. However, I want to help you get her back. No matter who has her, it will be better if we go together. Keep in touch, and in exchange I will give you a useful tool."

_ "Given what I've seen of the aftermath of your battles, I don't think there is anyone else I would rather have my back. I wouldn't go after her by myself even if she paid me to. What kind of tool?"_

"My pass codes into the Confederation Data Systems. They would give you Level VII clearance."

Weavel paused for a moment before saying slowly. _"That is a useful tool. Very well, I'll keep you posted on my findings. How do you wish me to contact you?"_

"Just continue to use the com system in my fighter. I can have it routed to my personal files as well." Vera laced her fingers together. "We don't have much time."

Weavel extended his hand to her, almost as if he was inviting her to shake it. _"The Codes?"_

"Right."

Angseth extended her right arm, and firmly grasped his hand. He opened a link between their computers, and Angseth sent him the clearance codes. In exchange he gave her a tracking system for his craft.

_ "There, we're even."_ Weavel stood, pushing himself away from the table. _"I look forward to working with you Captain."_

Angseth watched him leave, even more questions bubbling up in her mind. To her surprise he paused by the door, and looked back over his shoulder at her, the tassel on his head swayed to the side. She had never heard of the Siafu, but Weavel claimed to be one. She drank her last glass of water as he continued walking, eventually disappearing down the hall. She stood, and left enough credits on the table to cover her meal, and the damage she had caused. Vera pushed her helmet back on and walked to her ship. She had just made a deal with a bounty hunter.

Admiral Mizzen would love that.

* * *

Commercial broadcast stations had been having a field day. Smaller stations worked whatever coverage and updates into their schedules while larger corporate news feeds had dedicated entire channels and frequencies to covering the events. News-hound Private Jones sat at his station, one eye on the radar, the other on the latest news bulletin. A bag of potato chips sat next to his console, long since stale, but that didn't stop others from walking by his post and retrieving greasy handfuls from the bag. At the moment Jones had acquired quite an audience. Everyone from this deck of the station, or so it seemed, stood behind him watching the news right along with him. A meeting of the now Six Admirals had been called, and was due to start at any moment.

Admiral Mirson had just withdrawn from Galactic Confederate Union of Empires and Colonies. An elected leader was in place for the moment of the Republic of Syren. This was unprecedented. Sure the Confederation had one or two colonies try to secede in the past, but diplomatic negotiations or sheer brute force had brought them back. An entire Sector had never withdrawn before.

Draco Sector would be one of the worst to lose. It boasted over 50 habitable worlds, twenty major stations, hundreds of colonies, and some of the most advanced schools and academies the Confederation had. Or at least that was what the news feed had been giving them all day.

Another news anchor had moved into the holo space, and began preliminary dialog. _"To inform those of the viewing audience who have just joined us, we are awaiting the start of the emergency meeting between the Six Admirals."_

Jones didn't care about the talking head, he just wanted to see all of the Admirals seated in one place. He originally came from the Cygnus Sector, and System Admiral Leonisa was quite the looker. The camera suddenly panned away to reveal a long decorative hall. Reporters from all races seemed to line every inch of it, each with their own array of video equipment. Occasionally the camera panned down the hall to the meeting room. Seven seats had been placed in a circle. Each seat had a holo hovering over it, depicting seven constellations representing each sector. The meeting would be closed to the public, and this long hall would be the only chance any of the reporters would have to interview any of the Admirals.

The Admirals began to file in, each accompanied by their personal guard and officers. Jones would have loved to see the docking bays that held the transport yachts for each Admiral. They were rumored to be some of the finest ships in the entire fleet. The Admirals' personal guard each had their own ceremonial posts around the room behind them.

The first Admiral to enter was MaKrel of the Taurus Sector. He was a large creature, with black hair and piercing green eyes. His hair was cut short, and seemed to emphasize the curve of his horned skull. He wore the formal attire of the System Admirals, a white suit with three black bands around both biceps. Gold stars depicted the constellation of his sector.

Admiral Leonisa of the Cygnus sector entered with an air of authority, yet sat down with a smile. She had a thin body, with light blue skin, high forehead, and long purple hair with ceremonial jewelry tucked into its curls. She too wore a white suit, tailored to complement her small frame.

Admiral Wellhollow was also of a non-human race. He was tall, with long thin arms covered in an exoskeleton. He didn't so much as have a face, but a mass of creatively arranged jewels that served as eyes. He covered the Gemini Sector.

Admiral Nibla came from Ursa Major. The man always looked stressed, and carried around a stack of datapads in his thin arms. Normally one datapad would be more than enough to contain all the information he needed, but apparently that had been one of his traits ever since he attended Academy. Jones knew the trick well, carry a pad to make yourself look busy even if you aren't.

Admiral Laktelous hailed from the Cancer sector, a non-human from a dense world. His sector boasted many asteroid fields often used for mining. The metal and alloys used to make Confederation Battleships and station upgrades often came from his sector. He was another large creature, with a body that seemed to be made of thick plated scales. Jones personally felt that he wouldn't want to encounter something like that down a dark corridor.

Next came Admiral Mizzen from the Orion sector. He was the largest of all the Admirals by far. In the light of all the holo projectors, he seemed even more red and impressive. His eyes scanned the faces of those around him, his gaze always stern. To Jones, he seemed to be the most alien, yet familiar of them all. He stood by the door along with a few guards, ready to close it.

Even though Jones had never personally met any of the Admirals, he had heard enough about them. The reporter had begun to introduce the audience to the Admirals, when suddenly he spun around.

Mirson walked into the meeting last, and it seemed that everyone in the hall began talking at once. He wore a formal uniform, but not his Admirals stripes. Four fully armed guards escorted him in. The other Admirals didn't seem to harbor any animosity toward Mirson, and the man looked somewhat relived. All the reporters were doing their best to keep quiet and hung on every breath the former Admiral emitted. Reporters clustered around, screaming questions that remained unanswered.

* * *

Admiral Mizzen stepped aside far enough to allow Mirson to pass by, then reached out and grabbed the handles of both doors, pulling them shut. Leaving the reporters and cameras locked outside. He then took a seat on a large cushion, front legs folded, his back-half tucked in close, with his tail curling around his body.

For a moment the Admirals sat in peace, each turning off their own electronic devices, or just readying themselves for the coming meeting. MaKrel broke the silence. "Its good to see you alive and well Mirson. However we wish to keep the pleasantries minimal, we are all very busy people."

"I have come only as formality. The General Assembly on Syren made this decision, not me."

"I have reason to doubt that Mirson." Leonisa spoke. "I have information that you personally enlisted the aid of the Rovites to assist in your recent actions. Those orders came from your desk, not the General Assembly of Syren."

"I am not at liberty to answer many questions." Mirson sighed. "I am here to formally announce my resignation, and turn myself in to Confederate authorities."

"It's a shame to see you resign." Admiral Nibla commented.

"The Republic of Syren wishes to re-evaluate their position within the Confederation. I am only the messenger for once. They feel that the manpower that had been issued to them wasn't strong enough to curtail these latest attacks. The Republic of Syren wishes to elect their own Admiral."

"Noted,"

Mizzen sank further back onto his cushion, having been silent through the meeting. His gaze fixed on the heavily armed marines at Mirson's side, each wearing standard issue power suits. He suddenly spoke. "Earlier today I received communication from one of my ships within Draco,"

"Syren," Mirson corrected.

"_Draco_," Mizzen insisted. "They had informed me that they were being pursued by former Confederation vessels. If the Syrese senate wishes to make peace, then I demand they cease all pursuit at once and deliver our men back."

"I am not at liberty to make those decisions anymore."

Admiral Mizzen dismissed his rebuttal, and came back with another question. "Why did you pull the _Mabus_ off course?"

"Pardon?"

"The _Mabus_. Surely you wouldn't forget handing the orders to the captain of that vessel. She can be quite a handful."

Admiral Wellhollow then spoke. "There are several vessels that had been handed orders for altered courses through you."

Mirson looked between these two alien giants. "Those orders were not mine. They may have come from my offices, but the Senate had issued those orders. I do however accept full responsibility for the _Mabus_."

"Why?" Mizzen demanded.

A glance passed between the two Admirals, one subtle enough to go unnoticed by the others at the table, crossed the space filled with holograms and light. Mirson's next words caused the room to erupt.

"You know damn well why."

* * *

The reporters scrambled as Mirson casually left the meeting room, collecting his guards and leaving the reporters scrambling and screaming questions in a hundred tongues to his cold back. The other Admirals remained locked in the room.

Jones turned from his holoscreens and looked at the many faces behind him. The sudden sea of bodies made him seriously wonder if all of C deck really was at his workstation watching the broadcast with him. He could see the worry on their features, hear it as they whispered to one another.

_I guess that means that my trip to my cousin's house on Syren is canceled._ Jones mused.

* * *

"Approaching the frontier sir."

Briar sighed heavily, scanning the star charts before him as if he were in the final stages in a game of "Go". He pushed them aside, then turned to look over his crew. Everyone was seated, wearing their power suits, minds and bodies weary after so many days spent on alert status. He closed his eyes and sipped yet another cup of Char Tea that Bagra had brought him. When they made it out of this mess, he would really need to thank her or at least refresh her supply. The _Mabus_ didn't have far to go, he was banking on the idea that the Syrese wouldn't pursue them beyond the border of Draco sector. However they had no clear proof that the Syrese hadn't expanded their borders since withdrawing. He only wanted to refresh his supplies. As is they were completely in the dark and had received no orders. He could only continue to follow protocol.

"Captain,"

Briar knew that tone in her voice. "Yes Bagra."

Bagra turned her tired eyes toward his. "Scanners indicate the presence of Pirate activity."

Briar set his tea aside. "Arm our main cannons and turrets, fighters on standby. Osa, keep our present heading steady, but prepare to alter course if need be."

"Yes Captain."

_ Everyone else, pray for divine intervention._ He thought bitterly. He had faced Pirates before. The _Mabus_ after all was a battle cruiser. It could take a bit of pounding. _I don't care what it takes, I will make it back to the Orion sector with this ship and crew intact._

"Captain, there are two Pirate frigates closing in fast."

"Don't waste much time do they?" Briar sat up, studying the data pouring in around him. "All hands on deck, High Alert."

"Yes sir, deploying fighters."

_ Come on. If I have to go down, I'm taking all those Pirates with me!_ Briar watched the blips of his fighters on the screen. The Pirate fighters seemed to overwhelm his relatively small force. Briars fingers raced over the keys and holos before him, authorizing the use of the main cannons to fire at will. "Increase shields, call those fighters in close. Lets see if we can manage a warp jump."

"Yes sir."

The _Mabus_ vibrated as the port-side guns fired.

"Two direct hits sir."

The ship suddenly rocked harder, Briar righted himself. "Damage report!"

"Tertiary shields, minor hull breach, impact damage to starboard."

"Return fire!"

Briar held on tightly as the _Mabus_ fired again.

"Three direct hits on the frigate. Primary target destroyed."

"Continue barrage, these bastards are going to learn very quickly what happens when you assault a fully loaded Confederation cruiser." Briar hissed through his teeth. He scanned the main view screen as another shell impacted with the _Mabus_.

A blip ran across the screen, almost immediately five of the Pirate fighters vanished.

"Captain!"

"Continue Barrage."

"No…I mean, its Captain Angseth!"

Briar felt his heart leap as he scanned the main view screen. There it was, that familiar black fighter painted with Captains bars. He whispered her name softly.

* * *

Angseth swung in close to the Pirate fighters and locked several missiles on them. Thankfully this bunch were not Variable Form fighters. She let the missiles fly as she hailed the _Mabus_.

"Captain Angseth to Lieutenant Commander Nevada Briar! Do you copy?"

Briar stared dumbly at the com for a moment, then answered all protocol forgotten. "Briar to Angseth."

"Lieutenant Briar, I don't have much time, recall the fighters, and prepare to warp to these coordinates!"

Briar sent the numbers to his navigator. They could make the jump, it was close enough, however they would need to execute an about-face. Understandably, Briar had no wish to play chicken with a fully-loaded Pirate frigate. Nonetheless, he picked up the com.

"Serec!"

"_Yo!"_

"We need to get this thing to do a 180 then an immediate warp jump!"

"_You want me to do what?"_

"We need to perform a switchback maneuver!"

"_IN THIS SHIP?!"_

"I know you can figure something out."

A pause, then, _"Give me a minute."_

"We don't have a minute."

* * *

Serec leaned away from his control panel, then called out the engine room crew. "Alright! Dose, Kach, start revving those main engines for warp! Pearson, Courst, grab a fire ax and follow me." He walked over to a storage locker and extracted a large orange-red ax. He tagged his com. "Briar."

"_Yes?"_

"I've got an idea. Remember back at the Academy when the deans yacht crashed because it kept going in circles?"

"_Yes, but what does…Serec, I paid dearly for that stunt."_

"I did it. I cut the stabilizers on the ass-end of his ship, and when he tried to turn…"

"_You're the one that bugged his ship? I got all the heat for it!"_

"Hey, I was angry that he didn't renew my scholarship!"

"_I was blamed because I was the one that was supposed to guard his vessel against morons like you!"_

"We can fight over it later. I'm going to shut down the main stabilizers on the rear of the ship manually. Convert all power to the front left so we can create a pivot point. Then once we do that, fire all main guns on the port side. That should give us enough combined thrust to get this thing spun around."

"_You can do that? What kind of maneuver is that?!"_

"Trust me Briar! I've done this before!"

It was the "I've done this before" that caught Briars attention. A battle cruiser the size of the _Mabus_ was not supposed to be able to turn on a dime. Serec could risk the structural integrity of the ship, as well as the lives of those aboard it. Briar remembered how back at the Academy, Serec had begged to have a chance to look at the Deans ship. He gave all manner of excuses, how he came from a small world, he just wanted to see the interior, oh this is where all my hard-earned cash is going. Finally Briar had let him close to the ship just to shut Serec up. He hit the com. "Load all main guns on the Port side. All crew grab something and hold on. We will shortly experience a disturbance, and possible loss of gravity."

Serec collected his assistants and ran up the maintenance corridors of the _Mabus_. "Synchronize com lines, when I count to three, use the axes to cut those big black cables there. In about five seconds the redundancies will kick in, and the rear of the _Mabus_ will be stabilized then. Did you catch that Briar?"

"_Loud and clear, main cannons standing by."_

Serec and his assistants each went to their own posts, and pried open panels on the wall. He began to count, shouting over the com. "One!"

Briar gripped the arms of the Captains chair.

"Two!"

Axes rose.

"THREE!"

* * *

Outside the _Mabus_, Angseth sat in her fighter, tracking the many Pirate fighters flickering across her screen. Her attention was soon stolen from her radars, and toward the _Mabus_. The ship suddenly emitted what could only be described as an energy groan. It's Aura destabilized for a moment, then all guns on the Port side fired. Vera watched in amazement as the backend of this large and heavy cruiser suddenly swung around in space, hip-checking several confused Pirate fighters, and one or two drop ships with it. She counted five breathless seconds before the _Mabus_ came to a stop, pointing in the opposite direction. Interior and exterior lights flickered for a moment, then became steady again. She opened her com line.

"BRIAR! What the hell just happened?"

The reply was corrupted, but still discernible. _"We just…had to make…a U-turn."_

Angseth closed her jaw, and then aimed her fighter toward the _Mabus_. "Open the rear-bay doors so I can get in before you warp."

"_Are you requesting landing clearance?"_

"Dammit Briar! YES! I've got three main guns of these transports locked on me and I'm not sure I can dodge all of them!"

Briar smirked. _"Landing clearance granted. Welcome aboard Captain."_

Angseth hissed and slammed on the accelerator.

* * *

Briar watched the front view screen, it had a live feed of the front, both sides, and rear of the ship. The _Mabus_ was now in danger of a head-on collision with the second Pirate frigate.

"Lieutenant?"

_How quickly the title of "Captain" left._ Briar mused. "Stay on our current heading, correct by five degrees, and warp on my signal."

"Aye."

"Lieutenant, Captain Angseth had docked successfully."

"Good, keep current heading." He watched the frigate draw closer, its bow cannons fired, impacting with the _Mabus_' shields. Briar waited until he could make out the vague details of the frigate, then he shouted. "Correct course by twenty degrees! Engage warp!"

The _Mabus_ accelerated, brushing past the Pirate frigate, missing it by mere feet. The frigate fired, but it was too little too late. The frigate had already been caught in the wake of the _Mabus_, pulling all of its own weapons back toward it.

Once cleared, Briar covered his face with his right hand as those on the bridge cheered. He then sat up and said, "Bagra, you have the bridge. I'm going to welcome our Captain aboard."


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16:**

Weavel was once again on the prowl. Another station, the same quarry. One huge glass arachnid named Sand, and his uncanny ability to hide in plain sight on a station of this size. Since bidding Captain Angseth goodbye on the scrap heap known as the Oasis, he had been wracking what was left of his brain to figure out exactly how he would hunt down Aran. She was a golden needle in a haystack. So Weavel needed someone who had been very good at finding needles in the past, so good that the powers that be thought he was enough of a threat to put a bounty on his head. The first name that ran across his mind was the better choice.

Sand had once again gone underground. This time his home of choice was and even bigger scrap heap of a station known as the Bangor. It lacked the Cincinnati's grace and efficiency in all ways. The Cincinnati was at least easy to travel through, not so with the Bangor. The Bangor had been one of the first stations the Humans had built when they joined the Federation. It lacked all the refinements of recent stations, and due to their choice of work partners, most of the tunnels and halls had a very cloistered feel. The Bangor had been built in many different locations in small sections, and subsequently all those small pieces had been brought together and fixed in place. As far as visual appeal, the Bangor wasn't so bad initially. However when the Humans began to invite other races in to live on the Bangor, they brought all of their own little architectural nuances with them. They tore away the small cloistered rooms, broke down walls, and created larger open areas…which lasted for about as long as the Bangor's wealth. Soon the open areas were sized back down again, pieces added, halls buried inside the hulls of other steel cages. One would think that these smaller pockets would be enough to hide the roaches of the underworld, but they really weren't worth using. Most of them were no larger than closets.

The Bangor didn't have much of an underworld either. Most of the people that lived here were on their way to someplace else. It was too small to use as a military outpost, but a few mining companies did use the Bangor as a central office. The major distribution centers were located elsewhere. The vast majority of the populace on the Bangor were working class. They worked here and lived elsewhere. They didn't include enough long-term occupants to really create a community. From the information Weavel had on file, the Bangor refreshed its population every fifty years. That meant that every fifty years or so, one could visit here and not see one familiar face from your last stay. Usually a refresh rate of nearly one hundred years was considered abnormally high. The Bangor had one of the highest for not having much business. Aside from minor drug peddlers, there wasn't much of a black market here either. Why would Sand come here? The high refresh rate could be a reason.

Since the Bangor had been undergoing some major renovations lately, Weavel found all of his old navigation maps of the station nearly useless. Where there had once been frequently used corridors, there was now housing. Open space had become economic centers or office space. His navigation of the station became equally as hard when he discovered that not one, nor two, not even three, but _five_ Confederation battleships had docked, and were now allowing their men to roam about the Bangor as they pleased. Which meant that every last inch of the station was crawling with fully armored Marines. Weavel, the ruthless Bounty Hunter, and equally ruthless Gamma Fleet officer, could not have felt more out of place. He stuck to the crowded areas, and diverted nearly seventy five percent of his power into maintaining his stealth shield. If they couldn't get a bead on him, they were less likely to scan him.

Weavel eventually found a system of small narrow halls, not quite maintenance ducts, but enough of a space for him to gather his wits and update his maps of the station. He followed the tunnels, twisting and turning in on themselves until he had to admit that he was lost. On a station like the Bangor, that wasn't an easy feat. Eventually the halls opened wider, and he found himself standing in a large room, surrounded by nearly twenty cooling towers. Somehow he had made it to the main reactor core of the Bangor…and a convenient computer terminal. The bounty hunter approached the terminal, performed a minor hack, and all the information the Bangor had to offer spread before him.

After updating his maps, he then began to scan for signs of Sand. To his surprise he had an almost immediate hit, however when he tried to gain more information, the system locked up, and a familiar glass-like face with mandibles graced his HUD.

_ "Who the hell are you and what do you want?"_ The face asked.

"Are you Sand?" Weavel countered.

_ "Yeah, and you are?"_

"Weavel, bounty hunter. I'm looking for you."

Sand's mandibles flexed for a moment, his ruby-like eyes narrowed. _"Look, I don't know where you got your information from, but I'm legal now. I paid my fines, my record is clear, and I'm walking the straight and narrow. So you can just take your tin ass and make an about-face."_

"I'm not here to bring you in." Weavel said calmly. "I'm here to ask you for your services."

_ "Did you not hear a word I said iron-head? I'm _legal_ now. I don't work for hunters! I got a good job, nice folks, and I want to keep it that way."_

"I understand that. If I could find someone else, I'd be talking to them, but right now you're the best I've got."

Sand seemed to think for a moment. _"Hypothetically, if I was to take this job, what would you pay me?"_

Weavel smiled to himself. A hacker would always be a hacker. "I can't give you much cash,"

_ "Not interested then."_

"But, I do have something of interest that you may have, can I meet with you to explain the job?"

Sand paused once again. _"Let me see your maps,"_

Weavel had no say in the matter, with a few taps of his holo keys, Sand invaded one of his primary operating systems, and opened up his maps. A small marker appeared in the residential districts.

_ "Meet me here. Don't bring any friends, or I won't even consider."_

Weavel's HUD returned to normal. He checked his maps again, then made his way to the residential districts.

* * *

Briar felt as if the ships elevator couldn't move fast enough. She had returned, albeit a month late, but Angseth had returned. He still had no idea as to where the _Mabus_ was heading, but the Captain was back. The doors finally slid open, and Briar fought his urge to run through the cargo bays to the main docking ports of the _Mabus_. He quickly pushed through a few storage crates, and rounded the corner.

She was there. Standing next to her fighter wearing her armor, just as he remembered seeing her last. Her helmet lay on the floor at her feet as she inspected damage done to her fighter. Her hair had gotten longer, her skin darker from staying planetside. She smiled and he noticed that the crows feet had gone from the corners of her eyes, her skin was smoother. Briar paused for a moment, his senses alert. It felt like years since he had last seen her, and he couldn't wait to wrap his arms around her waist.

"Welcome aboard Captain." Briar said as he saluted.

Angseth turned, a smile lit up her features as she said, "At ease Lieutenant."

Briar felt the tension leave his body with her smile, her brown eyes bright. Her skin had been darkened from exposure to alien suns. Was it just his imagination, or did she look younger?

Angseth stepped, and then ran toward him, closing the gap in great strides. Briar paused, suddenly scrutinizing her every move. Her gait was smoother, no limp, her movements more fluid. However it wasn't her body language, or even her youthful expression that caused him alarm. It took him a moment to place, but once he did, it caused him great distress.

Her scent had changed.

She still smelled like Angseth, yet that wasn't her scent. He would know her scent in a dark room. He knew every layer of musk on her body, the taste of her sweat, and the caress of her breath. But this wasn't any, and yet still all of them at once. Technology could only copy someone to a point. Physical features, mannerisms, all could be duplicated, Briar had yet to be made aware of anyone that could duplicate someone's scent.

Angseth, or this person that looked like Angseth, was now just in reach. Her arms were in the process of wrapping around his shoulders in a tight embrace. Briar could feel that smell almost crawl down his throat, a smell like stale chemicals, old metallic substances. Not organic in a way he could discern. Briar stepped back away from this thing, his right clawed hand grabbed its exposed throat, while his left drew his pistol. He suppressed the growl in his voice. In one smooth movement, he grabbed and pinned this impostor against a supplies crate roughly a foot and half off the floor.

Vera felt her head connect with the storage container, and Briars claws tightened around her throat. "What are you…"

"_WHO ARE YOU?"_ Briar growled. He let go of his gun, and held her throat with both hands.

"Its me…Briar…What's…" Angseth grunted.

"You're not Angseth. I don't know who you are, but you're not my Captain!"

Vera lifted her hands and tugged at Briar's claws. They tightened, making it harder for her to breathe. "Briar! Please!"

"If you are Vera, then prove it!" He growled again. He did wonder how this thing would try to convince him.

Angseth began kicking, anything to shake his claws loose of her throat. They had never discussed a codeword or anything of this nature, the idea that they would ever be at odds was so foreign. Now as her kicks seemed to have no effect, she was desperate to think of something. _Dammit, I didn't survive all that shit only to have my own Fiancé mistake me for someone else!_

Vera suddenly took her hands away from her neck, then quickly brought them up between his arms, and pushed out with her elbows. As expected his grip loosened, and she was able to slip free. She dropped to the floor, and then swept his feet from underneath him. As he fell, she reached up with her left hand caught his left arm. She rolled, positioning herself behind him, and twisting his arm behind his back. Briar hit the floor, and Angseth landed on top of him, her left leg planted squarely in the middle of his back.

Before he could reach for his gun with his right hand, Angseth caught it, and pinned it to the floor. Briar was stunned at her sudden strength. She had never been this strong before, but her smell had shifted again. This was now Vera's smell. The smell of her fear and her sweat. This was her.

"You want proof Briar? I can give you proof." She twisted her wrist, and ripped the sleeve of his uniform. Vera searched through his fur until she located that little scar on his arm. She remembered that day, her leg in pain, and the taste of his blood.

Briar grit his teeth when he felt her fingers dig into is sensitive flesh.

"This, this is your proof! I put this there!" She hissed through grit teeth. The now familiar anger began to push its way up through her consciousness, much like it had done in the bar earlier. The anger fed her, energized her, giving her all the power she needed for…

_Needed for what?_

Angseth suddenly let go, and scrambled away from Briar's body, standing. She wasn't the least surprised when she saw half the crew in the docking bay staring in numb shock at the two of them.

_Oh no…what did I do? My Mate, is he okay…Is Briar okay?_ She ran her fingers through her hair nervously. Briar pulled himself up from the ground, and paused to study the tattered remains of his sleeve.

There was now no doubt in Briars mind that this was Angseth. Those were her movements; this was the scent of her fear and anxiety. Angseth turned wide frightened eyes toward Briar. He had recovered, and shook it off like cats had the tendency to do. One would never know that only a moment ago she had pinned him to the floor. He dusted off his coat, and locked his green eyes on her brown orbs.

"Welcome Home Captain."

* * *

"So what do we do about Mirson?" The question rang through the meeting room.

"We let him go. There isn't much we can do, and I feel that the only one he'll talk to is Mizzen. Even if we mobilized our collective fleets, we have a very small chance of reclaiming the Draco sector." Admiral Nibla commented. "I suggest that we have patience."

Wellhollow spoke. "We don't have any time to waste. If there is a decision to be reached, we must come to it soon."

"I agree." Leonisa seconded. "Already I have received information that two of my newly acquired clusters are trying to defect. I have sent troops to stall their progress and restore diplomatic negotiations. The withdraw of Draco sector seems to be creating a domino effect. The city-states that compose the majority of the Outer Reaches have started to become nervous. If they haven't requested a withdraw, then they are likely to be in the process of."

Admiral Laktelous joined in. "We cannot allow the Draco sector to defect. We have all become a common people, a confederacy of united peoples. We must take the Draco sector back!"

"And incite Civil War?" Nibla called. "I suppose so then. The Confederacy has yet to be marred by such primitive actions."

"All the same Admiral, I don't feel comfortable having another super-power that close. The core of the Confederation will not suffer, however the best way we can defend and reveal our true strength to our enemies, bolster the morale of newly acquired nations who have just joined the Confederacy, and show that we will not be shaken in our solidarity is to take back the Draco sector by whatever means necessary." MaKrel commented.

"We shouldn't resort to violence. To launch a full-scale assault on Draco would be quite costly, and may even cause mutiny in our ranks. Don't forget that some of our best academies are located in Draco."

Mizzen sat silent, listening to the other admirals around him discuss options. He began to collect his holo windows, rounding them up, and generally straightening his workspace. Let them argue, all was not lost. After a moment, the table grew quiet, and he stood, his light pens and coffee mug arranged neatly. "Ladies, Gentlemen, and Others. I suggest we stall for the time being until we know exactly what the situation is. This may be dealt with diplomatically, but we don't know for certain yet. There are still ships within the sector that we have lost contact with. Earlier today I received a disturbing report from Lieutenant Commander Briar aboard the Battleship _Mabus_. Syrese forces, as well as Pirates have aggressively pursued them. I would like to get them, and others in similar circumstances home as soon as possible. However, they are yet an asset even in their current bleak position. We need information. A communication blackout has encompassed the entire Draco sector. Our men may be alone, but they are far from helpless or worthless."

Admiral Nibla finished off his fifth cup of coffee. "I can agree. Information first, then action."

Leonisa spoke again. "So what do we propose? Pin our hopes on a few ships that may or may not still exist."

"For the moment it's what we have."

"I still don't like how quickly they withdrew."

"Diplomatic negotiations are up to the politicians to decide. We need to have a military stance when they reach a decision."

Wellhollow called out. "We need to reach a majority. I can personally bar the door until we do."

A few chuckles. If anyone were fit to keep anyone from escaping, it wouldn't be Wellhollows thin frail frame.

"We can choose to wait, or we can choose immediate military action." Laktelous announced to the six admirals in the room. "All for military action, raise your appendages,"

Three hands rose.

"Well... we are in for a night aren't we."

Mizzen moved his cushion and sat down next to the door. Anyone who wanted to leave would need to go through him.

* * *

Vera stumbled up the hall, and dropped her duffle bags near her door. She had always found it amusing that she would always return with more stuff than what she had left with. Case in point; the last that she had seen the _Mabus_, she had left with little more than the clothes on her back and the survival gear in her fighter. Now she stood at the door of her quarters with two bags full of random gear and souvenirs from both the Chozo and Luminoth. She punched in her key code, and stepped inside.

Her quarters were dark, but that was fine for the moment. All of the holograms in her room were inactive, yet everything still had that starlight glow caused by LED lights around the room. Angseth dragged her bags inside, then walked into her bedroom and collapsed onto her bed.

For a moment she savored the scent of her pillows and sheets. She kicked her boots off, and pulled the pillows closer. She was home. She was safe. Even though the _Mabus_ just had a skirmish with Gamma Fleet, she felt safer here than anywhere else.

_ If I don't move, I will fall asleep right here._ Vera rolled over and called out. "Lights, seventy five percent."

The room slowly grew brighter, and she sat up. Angseth looked over at the open door of her bathroom and smiled. A shower would feel very good after what she had just been through. In a few moments, she was out of her clothes and adjusting the water temperature.

Briar entered Angseth's quarters, carrying fresh clothing, and a tray of drinks. He could hear her shower running. He felt guilty about attacking her. But then again her scent had been off, it had not been hers. Perhaps it was due to the paranoia and stress that he had been under lately. Would she forgive him? Was she angry with him?

The shower stopped, and moments later Angseth stepped out wearing a robe and using a towel to dry her hair. Briar took a step forward, then paused.

She wasn't wearing a prosthetic.

There was a pair of flesh and blood feet peeking out from the hem of her robe. Even in the dim light he could see her toenails. Vera let the towel slip from her hand and rested it on one shoulder. At some point she had cut her hair short again down to regulation length. She examined her nails for a moment, unaware of Briar's presence.

Briar set the drinks down on the table along with the fresh uniform. He crept up behind her, and gently wrapped his arms around her waist. Vera gave a startled gasp, resting her hands over his as his chest pressed lightly against her back. She sighed contently and asked. "Nevada, what happened down there?"

"Hmmm?" He purred.

"Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about."

Briar sniffed at her neck. "For a moment you didn't smell like yourself…I reacted."

"Didn't smell like myself?" Angseth turned to look him in the eye.

"You smelled…not quite artificial, but…not like you."

"Do I smell like myself now?"

"Yes. Maybe I had caught scent of the new cybernetics, or even your new armor." He kissed the side of her neck. "I'm sorry."

"I forgive you, I know I would have done the same thing."

Briar pulled the robe off her shoulder, and sniffed at the nape of her neck. "I wonder if you still taste the same."

"Nevada! I just got a shower!" Angseth gasped as he gently closed his teeth over her bare shoulder. Her body became limp and yielding in his arms. He took this opportunity to nudge her down to her bed, growling. She gasped again.

His teeth left her shoulder, and he gently ran his rough tongue over the spot. "I missed you."

"There wasn't a day that passed that I didn't think about you." Vera breathed. _Except maybe when I was ogling Ryan._

Nevada pushed her robe passed her shoulders, then removed it entirely. She rolled over in bed and looked up into his amber-green eyes. He leaned in closer and gave her a lick on the nose.

"I love you Vera."

"I love you Nevada," she leaned forward and kissed the small cleft of his lip. Briar ran one of his clawed hands through her hair and began to lick her chin, his rough tongue scratching her chin.

"I'm happy to see you back in one piece," he purred. He knew she loved it when he purred.

"How have things been since I've been gone?"

"We can review that later, after you've had sufficient rest."

"If you keep kissing me like that, I'll never get any sleep."

"Oh, you'll sleep like a rock by the time I'm done with you," he said with a smile.

* * *

Cold, so very cold. Angseth unwillingly left her dreams to investigate the sudden drop in temperature. She awoke to find her legs tucked up to her chest, and her arms wrapped around her knees. Her covers had been kicked off and lay bundled like an impenetrable wall between herself and Briar. _No wonder I'm cold._ She pulled the blankets up over her body, and felt the heat that Briar emitted slowly creep across her back. Now that the cold had been dealt with, there was another sensation, one that at first she could place. An ache in her limbs, almost to the marrow of her bones. Immediately she felt hot again, suffocated and uncomfortable.

Her right arm hurt, her right leg ached, the pain almost like phantom limb. However she doubted that was the cause. The Chozo had done a fantastic job integrating the components of her artificial limbs with her nervous system. _Maybe having Briar jostle me around shook up something?_ Angseth thought, then dismissed it. No amount of shaking and or tossing would have caused this. This pain was deeper, and not just limited to her cybernetics. She could feel this pain throughout her whole body. Both arms, legs, and back. Now that she thought about it, when was the last time she had those monthly cramps?

She sat up in bed, and pulled on her robe. She was thirsty, her throat and tongue felt as dry as an asteroid. Briar stirred, but didn't awaken. Vera tied the robe around her waist and continued to her small kitchen area.

The water was cool and cold, refreshing to her parched throat. She soon emptied her glass and went for another. Three glasses later, she finally stepped away from the sink, wiping her mouth with her sleeve. She felt better, more alert, but the ache was still there. _Maybe I need more sleep?_ She took another glass of water with her, and moved into her sitting room.

She could almost sense it coming, the distant areas of her brain sending signals and alerts to the rest of her, then a sudden tightening of her chest. The feeling was so sudden and strange. Her entire body seized up, all of her muscles simultaneously tightening as the cramps in her bones and joints intensified. She collapsed to the couch. Her cybernetics were actually not complaining as much as the rest of her. Every joint from her toes to her fingers complained. She whimpered as the pain settled in between the bones of her spine.

_ What's happening to me? I need to get to the med bay!_ She reached for her cane, her hand closed around the black quartz sphere, and the pain subsided for a moment. Vera turned to look at the cane, and saw the ball begin to emit a strange blue light, arching like lightning inside the smooth surface of the sphere. It arched to areas where her fingertips and palm touched.

She quickly jerked her hand back, and stared at her fingers and palm. Instantly, the pain returned in full force. Angseth quickly stood, putting as much distance between herself and her cane as possible. _"Briar!"_

Nevada rose from the bed with a questioning growl. He yawned, displaying an impressive array of teeth. "Vera?"

"I need to get down to the Med Bay!"

Briars sleepiness dropped. "Is everything all right?"

"I don't know, my entire body aches."

Nevada looked through the darkness to see his beloved clutching her arms to her chest. He pushed the covers off, and then grabbed a pair of sweat pants from the floor. He reached for the com.

"I don't think a house call is going to work." Angseth grit her teeth as another muscle-clenching flare encompassed her body.

Briar grabbed the first set of clothes he came across in her bureau and helped her to pull them over her body. After she had been sufficiently covered, Nevada hoisted her onto his back. Angseth curled her arms around her shoulders as he gripped her legs.

"Grab my cane."

He handed the cane to her, and then opened the door. He kept to the smaller tunnels that led to the Med Bay to keep everyone's suspicions to a dull roar. Periodically Vera would whimper, and he could _feel_ her muscles and body generally tighten against his back. He ran faster, telling her every step of the way that everything would be all right.

* * *

"I can't find anything wrong."

Vera shifted her gaze to her right, where Dr. Sakari Bearn sat analyzing data read-outs of her cybernetic limbs and general vital signs. "My joints still ache." Angseth said.

"I already said it once. I'm not giving you anything for the pain until I can figure out what's causing it. With the read-outs I'm getting at the moment, I'd say it's more psychosomatic than anything thing else."

"But,"

"The pain is real. I understand Vera. Right now the scans show me nothing. No inflamed muscle tissue, synapses are good, even your new cybernetics, while advanced, are not beyond means of operation. But they are made of some tough material. How did you come to lose your right arm anyway?"

"I've been wondering that myself." Briar seconded.

Angseth sighed. "I got in a fight with a Sheegoth."

"And it chewed your arm off?"

"Not exactly."

"And here you are in my med lab complaining of cramps." She examined one holo closely. "These cybernetics are amazing."

"Do you know the system?"

"Yeah. Recent and expensive technology. You are one lucky woman." Sakari rotated the hologram. "The only things I don't understand are these three strands here." She used a light pen to highlight one area, then brought the holo around to display it to Angseth. "They extend from your arm, then splice into the nerves on your spine, another set comes from your leg, and another is attached to your brain stem."

"That's a little rough for Chozo technology." Briar said as he leaned forward to examine the holo.

"That is what I had been thinking. Especially since the new limbs have already been integrated so nicely into your nervous system."

Angseth studied the hologram, and wondered if those little strands were essential parts of her Morph Ball system. Now that she thought about it, she hadn't had time to tell anyone about her new toys. This moment didn't seem appropriate for tales of her adventures in the Beyond. She looked away as Dr. Bearn cleared the holos.

"Briar, I'm sorry to ask you to leave, but there are a few things I need to discuss with Vera in private."

Briar stood from his seat, and ran his clawed fingers lovingly over Angseth's head. "Its alright. Just page if you need me." He reluctantly walked out of the room, and closed the door behind him.

Sakari leaned back in her chair. "Now for those interesting blood results." She turned toward Angseth.

Angseth could read the expression on her features. She knew that look well enough from years of working with the woman what those tight lips and wrinkled forehead meant. Dr. Bearns dark eyes studied her, seeming to weigh the situation before her. Sakari then sighed, crossed her legs and folded her hands, resting them on her knee.

"How long Vera?"

"How long what?" From past experience, she didn't like it when people asked her that question.

"How long have you been an addict?"

The impact of that question caused Angseth to lift from her reclined position and fix a hard gaze at the Doctor.

"Lay back down."

If that command had come from anyone else, Angseth would not have paid any attention to it, but from Sakari, a woman she gladly called her friend, she obeyed. "What makes you ask?"

Sakari's features did not loosen or even shift slightly. This was one of the only women in the Confederation who could possibly beat Angseth in a one on one fight, and at the moment she had the upper hand. "By the Bright Lady Angseth, it's bad enough I need to lecture the troops about riding the stim-switch, I don't need to go over the side effects with you!"

"Stimulants? I haven't had any of those in years."

"Don't bullshit me Vera. The reason that you are having these cramps is because your body is going into withdrawal."

"Sakari, I haven't been taking any stimulants!"

"The tests don't lie."

Just like on the Oasis, her body reacted, but instead of jumping out of her seat, Vera caught herself before any damage could occur. Her hands tightened on the arms of the chair. She eventually relaxed.

"What the hell was that?" Dr. Bearn demanded.

"I've been through a lot of shit lately." Angseth took slow deep breaths. "Please, I'm trying to keep a handle on it."

Sakari looked over the files again. "I'm not getting any information out of the ordinary—for you—on any of my tests. But everything you've described to me thus far sounds like stimulant withdrawal symptoms." She turned toward Angseth. "Vera, you know I love you, and would do anything for you. But what you've been telling me doesn't make any sense. Stimulants are designed to vanish from the body after they've been used. Right now your body is addicted to something and you're going through withdrawal. The only way I can explain these symptoms is an addiction. Not just to stimulants. So I ask you, what, and how long have you been taking this foreign substance?"

"I can't give you an answer because I don't have one. I haven't been taking any stimulants, and I haven't been taking any 'foreign' substances!" Angseth tried to read Dr. Bearns dark features. "You need to believe me!"

Sakari tapped her light pen against her datapad. "Vera, I'm letting you off with a warning. You're right, I can't pinpoint what you're using, or even if you have been using anything. Your return has put a smile on the crews faces, that's worth a lot more than anything else. Please Vera, behave until we get into a safe port. Your crew needs you to keep an even head. Briar needs you to keep an even head."

"I've just gotten back. I haven't had time to lose my head."

"Vera, you may not notice it, because you have been gone for so long, but Nevada is hurting."

"How? Is he okay? Did he get injured?"

Dr. Bearn shook her head. "All of your constant coming and going has been chewing on him. There is nothing he wants more to have you here, with him."

Angseth grew quiet. "He wants me pinned down."

"That's one reason why he never said anything to you. He knew that you would see it that way. He doesn't want to pin you down, but he does want to see you take more responsibility. No more running off. And I have to say, that you being my Captain, I have to agree with him. The _Mabus_ needs you…more than Samus Aran does."

Angseth felt that she had a foot each firmly planted in two completely different worlds, and not one of her friends would understand either of them.

* * *

The residential district wasn't hard to find, and thankfully almost completely devoid of Confederation troopers. After meeting Angseth, Weavel began seeing the troopers as more than just cannon fodder. Sand himself opened the door to his apartment, and scanned Weavel once over.

"Kinda ironic ya know. Two years ago you were shootin at my ass and now you're asking me for help." Sand held the door open wider. "Come on in."

Weavel stood for a moment, reluctant to enter. No one in the underworld was ever this nice without a reason. He wondered if there was an ambush waiting on the other side of the door. He kept his pulse beam ready.

"You gonna let everyone in the station know yer here, get in."

Weavel stepped inside.

"I ain't gonna bite ya." Sand led him deeper into his apartment, a large circular room with a computer terminal that took up most of the center. A narrow hall opened to his right. "Samus said that you'd eventually come seek me out. She said you were good people."

_ "You've spoken to her?"_

"Not recently, we chat online now and again. She's a fun girl!" He vanished up the small hall. "You want any coffee?"

Weavel declined. But Sand's words didn't escape him. Aran kept in touch with him? Wasn't she also trying to capture him on the Cincinnati? Sand entered the room holding a coffee mug between two long glass-like legs. _"I do not have much time Sand."_

"Names not Sand anymore. Now I'm called Gregory."

_ "Gregory doesn't suit you."_

"Then kiss my ass. I like it." Sand sat down at his terminal. As soon as his main body hit the chair, the entire room illuminated with holoscreens. Sand-now-Gregory, extended his long limbs and placed one of each on eight separate interface ports. "Okay, what do you need? Fresh maps? Perhaps a few tips on the stock markets, I ain't doing black-market shit anymore. Warranties are too unpredictable."

_ "I need to find out where Aran is."_

"You're her friend, just get her on the com, she usually answers in a day." Gregory replied.

Weavel folded his arms. _"What I am about to tell you must not leave this room, because the fate of life as we know is-"_

"Hanging in the balance, yeah I know, time is of the essence, all that destiny bullshit." He closed down a few screens. "Spill it."

_ "Roughly a month ago Aran was captured on FQ3-59 by Confederation troops. I need to know where she was taken."_

Gregory stood up from his terminal. "Okay, you lost me at 'captured' and as soon as I heard 'Confederation' a little bell went off in my head telling me not to accept this job." He took a sip of his coffee. "Out!"

_ "Listen to me."_

"I told you already! I'm legal now! The last thing I want to do is piss off the Confederation, right now those bastards are just looking for a fight! Have you seen the news feeds?!" he circled the room once. "I repeat, have you seen the news feeds?!"

Weavel waited until the spider had settled again. _"I have something that will help you get the information, and you can keep it if you so desire. Part of your payment."_

"I can't think of anything that would make me want to take this job." Gregory finished off his coffee. "But I'll listen to you try."

_ "I have Level VII access codes."_

"You're shitting me."

_ "They are yours if you help me find Aran."_

Gregory stood still for a moment, his main body swayed to the side and back again, almost as if he had been caught in a stiff wind. "Let me see."

_ "Will you take the job?"_

"Damn you drive a hard bargain."

_ "Will you?"_

"Let me go refill my coffee."

Weavel waited patiently until Sand came back into the room, this time with a bigger mug. The glass spider sat down, and closed all of the holoscreens save for one. The bounty hunter also noted that he had disconnected all of his personal com systems.

"Just sit down right there." He pointed.

_ "I prefer to stand."_

"I need to get into your head and extract the codes. I prefer Cyborgs to be sitting down when I do."

The thought of anyone creeping around in his personal datafiles never appealed to Weavel. _"I can upload them to you."_

"No, you can't. Your processor is working at a much slower pace than mine, I don't want to risk damaging the codes. There is a reason the things are so hard to get a hold of. If you got them off an officer, chances are they may not work when you try to use them because the codes are bonded with the officers DNA. That makes them unique. I don't want to risk even one piece getting out of place." He used one leg to pull up a chair. "Now sit."

Weavel sat down reluctantly. _"The codes only. Don't get into my personal files."_

"Geez, I already have enough porn. I won't touch them."

Weavel hated having his brain hacked. This wasn't the first time, and it most likely wouldn't be the last either. It was bad enough that he had trouble at times getting his organic and mechanical components to mesh with each other, and it was even worse when it seemed that someone was changing the channel on an internal video feed. He rested his head on the back of the chair.

"Done."

_ "You hadn't even started."_

"No, I'm done. Give me some credit, I was hacking you the second you walked in the door. You have got one hell of an easter egg in this file." Sand reported.

_ "The codes?"_

"No, the one that was written in Chozo."

So the bastard had gone a little further into his personal files. _"Can you read it?"_

"Chozo? Hell no. But the encryption I can read. The language of the file may be in Chozo, but the encryption is Standard. Pretty high-grade, but still Confederate computer speak."

Weavel leaned closer. _"What does it say?"_

Sand hit a few buttons, and a holo image appeared. "Do you know her?"

The image, a bust, was of a young girl in a Federation Privates uniform. She had dark skin, and long thick curly hair that hung over her shoulders in glossy ringlets. Her eyes were equally as dark, accented by light brows, and determination, as if she challenged anyone and everyone in the universe. She was so young, easily as young as seventeen human years. She wore small pieces of jewelry that seemed as if they served some kind of purpose, perhaps even tribal markings of a sort. The metal appeared to have been made from copper, or a copper-like alloy, twisted and braided into intricate knots. Across her forehead, and disappearing under her hair was the largest piece, a thin twist of metal that served as a band, or crown. Off to the right, a small chain descended and ended near her left eye. At the end of the chain was the oddest glowing blue stone, no larger than a pebble. Seemingly put there to draw attention to the girls eyes. She wore earrings, made of the same twisted metal, yet also capped with two more of those glowing blue stones. The blue stones looked familiar, but at the moment he couldn't place it.

"Do you know her?" Sand repeated.

_ "Yes."_ Weavel answered. Although why Samus would go through all this trouble to hide a picture of Angseth created even more questions.

"If you give me a name, we can make this much easier." Sand leaned from his holo screens.

Now that Weavel gave it more thought, there was still quite a bit about Angseth that he didn't know. _"Her name is Angseth. She's a Captain in the Confederation."_

"Is this an older image?"

_ "Yes. She still looks young, but not this young."_

It took Sand only a few moments to pull up several holo screens. "How does this bitch even still have a job?"

Given the information before him, Weavel wondered that too. Her records had many ups and downs and more classified documents than Samus herself. _"Show me her Bio."_

"Not much to say…Mervera Diane Angseth, current Captain of the Battlecruiser _Mabus_…hails from the Isrec mining rings…Whoa, she was the only survivor of the Aether incident. Good to know…Dropped out of the Marines shortly after, and joined the Space Force. Big red file on that."

_ "Can you read it?"_

"I can try, but I would need the clearance of a System Admiral. Not easy to do and avoid detection…She joined the Space Force, wreaked her fighter, lost a leg, and apparently stumbled her way through officers training…this woman is only a captain through the manipulation of some divine power. More red files…and even more after she became a Captain…I'm curious."

Weavel leaned back in his seat. This wasn't like Samus. She wouldn't lead him to a place where there was nothing but closed doors. No, the information he needed was right in front of him, somewhere on this screen was his answer. He now had a good idea where Aran had been taken, that part was solved, but why Angseth? What purpose did that stupid marine have in this entire scheme? What did the Stupid Marine mean to the Damned Woman?

Where had he seen those stones before?

"You need a minute?" Sand asked.

_ "Yes."_

"Okay, I need some more coffee. Don't touch anything that isn't a scroll bar."

_ "I have no intention to."_ Weavel didn't need to shuffle aside. Sand left the small room as gracefully and easily as he had entered.

The bounty hunters gaze went from Angseth's younger picture to the base file in the Confederation data banks. The picture in the data banks had been recently taken. Her hair was shorter, and she no longer wore the jewelry. He read the first line of her Bio again.

_ "…hails from…"_ Weavel suddenly sat up, and turned swiftly to the younger picture. _"Isrec."_

Now everything fell into place and made sense.

Years ago Ridley had issued orders to invade the Isrec mining rings. Weavel and the others had thought nothing of it. They were often ordered to invade smaller mining operations to harvest whatever ore or mineral Ridley was after that week. As more pieces fell into place, Weavel began recording his findings to his logs.

"_You didn't survive just one disaster Angseth, you somehow managed to dodge two."_ He began to pull up files on Isrec from his internal net system. When they had entered those mines, the Pirates had found appalling conditions, how anyone could live in an environment like that, let alone raise children in it had all of them scratching their heads. The orders had been made clear. Only capture and harvest the people. There had been radioactive residue everywhere. In the walls, the machines, the food, even the water. Very high levels in most places. The main culprit was Phazon. His team had to go back to the ship several times to detox, then jump back in again.

The Pirate scientists on site deduced that at some point in the very distant past a chunk of Phazon had slammed into that asteroid field, contaminating nearly the whole section of space. Then the Allbright Company received mining rights to the field five hundred years ago. At that time Phazon hadn't yet been discovered, so for five hundred years, there were generations of miners living, growing, eating, breathing, sleeping, and breeding in the stuff. Many people had died in the past, but it had always been recorded as a mining accident or the like in the Federation data banks, and Allbrights official documents. But there were survivors, people who had lived with the radiation and somehow managed to overcome the effects. In essence, Angseth's people had adapted, and had been adapting to the Phazon for generations. Ridley had wanted them to experiment with. That's why the Pirates took all the people and not the ores. And somehow Angseth had managed to get out just before Gamma Fleet had invaded.

Weavel glanced at her younger picture, at the jewelry she wore. _That's why you're such a crazy bitch._ He now knew those stones, and why they had seemed so familiar.

On her ears, and across her forehead she wore three small glowing fragments of Phazon.

Sand entered the room again. "I can already tell that this is going to be quite a hunt. All files on FQ3-59 are on lock down, and they don't say anything about a prisoner transport. Either Aran went with them willingly, or they disguised her as a chunk of cargo."

_ "Would they have even documented her?"_

"The Confederation? Hell yeah. They love paper trails. I can get you a list of leads, but that's about it."

"_Give me what you have."_ Weavel said, trying to understand the information Sand had displayed before him.

"I need something to start with here. Knowing Aran, if she hadn't gone willingly, they would need some very intense containment units."

"_Cryogenic components."_

"They're keeping her on ice? Woman needs to learn how to pay her taxes…okay. Looking for a ship that could have a strong enough cryo-system…and I've got two hits." Sand pulled up several holo windows. Weavel realized that he was hacking from eight different angles simultaneously. "Cargo…these are some odd numbers. I'll need a moment." He sipped his coffee. "Go on and make yourself at home. This could take a while."

Weavel sat down, and folded his arms. His brain chewing on the relationship between Aran and Angseth. There was also another question in his mind. _"Gregory."_

"Yo."

"_How did you meet Aran?"_

"We uh…we met on the Cincinnati."

_ "I remember encountering both of you there years ago. I thought that she was hunting you."_

"She was…kinda."

"_Explain."_ Weavel focused on the spiders movements.

"I thought she would have told you by now, considering how closely the two of you were working. She hired me, she wanted to chase me. She promised that I wouldn't get hurt, but all I had to do was run and give her a chase. She told me that she had been trying to flush you out."

"_What?"_

Sand's ruby eyes shifted from the screens to Weavel. "Look, don't get angry, I was paid—well. Either way, looks like you still need my help…and I'm keeping the codes."

"_Keep talking."_

"As I was saying. She wanted to speak with you. So she wanted to chase me, to draw you in."

Weavel could feel his joints begin to freeze. He had trusted her for so long. He never questioned that their alliance was anything more than business.

"I didn't know why she wanted to, but the cash she gave me was enough to cover my debts and buy my freedom. For that, I do owe her. So, in exchange for the codes, and past payments, I will help you."

"_She manipulated me."_

"So? We've all been manipulated at one point or another. Would you rather still be under Ridley's thumb?"

"_How do you know,"_

"Hello! I'm a hacker! It's my job to know." Sand finished off his cup of coffee. "Underworld, overworld, doesn't matter, everyone screws everyone else. In the end the question I found myself asking the most was 'who would I rather be screwed by?' Kinda puts things into perspective. Aran is a nicer piece of ass than Ridley."

Weavel's fists clenched, then loosened. _I'm pinned. I can't back out of this. I need to find her. Ever since she went missing everything has been falling apart. How can one woman mean so damn much?_

Sand seemed to read his distress. "Coffee?"

Weavel turned toward Sand. _"If I could still drink it, I'd say 'yes."_

* * *

The meeting between the Admirals eventually broke, a majority of four to two having been reached. They had chosen to wait. After hours of argument and possible scenarios, they voted and recorded their progress. The Admirals left to attend to their own individual duties. After gathering her possessions, Admiral Leonisa met up with Mizzen in the hall. She had questions for that monolith.

"What are you up to Mizzen?" It sounded more like an accusation than a question.

"Absolutely nothing."

Leonisa stepped before him in the hall, blocking his path. She was easily the shortest of the Seven Admirals, but what she lacked in height, she made up in her abilities. "You've broken your usual run of sadism and voted to wait instead of a military action. I know that you wouldn't have done that unless you had something already in mind."

Mizzen stopped and looked down at the smaller alien woman before him. "The meeting is over. Its up to the Senate as to whether or not they choose to try Mirson. We need more information."

Leonisa stepped aside, and allowed him to pass. She suddenly spat. "Its Angseth isn't it? Angseth and her ship, the _Mabus_."

Mizzen paused, and his silence spoke enough for him.

"That woman has always been an ace up your sleeve. I don't know why you pay so much mind to someone as disobedient as she is, or why she had special privileges. I had at one point realized that you might have loved her. But that's not the case this time."

"What are you trying to get at Leonisa?"

She advanced on him. "I want to know why you are casting one of your best weapons aside." She tilted her head, causing a few chains and gems to shift place. "Or have you found a better tool?"

"If you wish a full report on my decision, I will furnish one for you. Angseth will stay where she is on Aether unless the Senate comes to a decision."

"Aether? I had received a message during the meeting that she had returned to the _Mabus_."

Mizzen stiffened.

"I know you're up to something Mizzen. I know that look, but I suppose that I will need to wait and see just like everyone else."

Mizzen continued up the hall, and walked to the bay containing his ship, leaving Leonisa behind him.

"Welcome aboard Admiral, will you be returning to the Cairo?"

"Unfortunately no, I do have some other business to attend." He sat down, careful to not let his crown of horns scrape the ceiling. "Please set course for Anubus IV."


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17:

A glass of water sat on the edge of Angseth's desk. It was the fifth one she had downed in the past hour. Briar and Serec watched quietly as their Captain went over the information they had presented her on the condition of the Mabus. She reached for the glass and finished off the last few sips in one gulp before minimizing the holo windows and addressing Briar.

"I need to know exactly what the hell happened on SR3-88." Her eyes rested on Briars before shifting to Serec.

Briar pulled up a few holo screens and used the data they presented to aid him in the retelling of events. The Captain listened patiently, only speaking to ask questions to clarify the data. By the time he had finished, Vera had gotten and refilled three more glasses of water. Serec watched all of her actions silently. The Captain normally drank a lot of water, she always had, but today the woman had to have drank two gallons at the very least. That was a bit much. He turned his attention back to Briar's presentation. Angseth had grown silent as she studied the holo-video of the probe launches.

"So, you're telling me that Svenson had shot almost twenty if these things down to the surface, performed no follow-up scans, then ran like a scared dog once the shit hit the fan."

"In a nutshell."

"And Thomas had threatened to overtake the Mabus?"

"Yes," Briar watched as she set another empty glass down. "He demanded that we join the Syrese, or face his wrath."

Angseth paused the video feed. "That is sloppy. Doesn't sound like Thomas at all…he must have been planning this for a while," she pulled up a few of the holo windows from her desk. "You said something about a large cache of SOS signals."

Serec took over speaking for Briar. "Yeah. We don't know how, but we suspect Thomas had hacked our com signals. Almost our entire stay in the orbit of SR3-88 we had limited coms. Then when we refused to join Thomas, all of these SOS signals appeared in our systems. I think he was trying to blackmail us."

"But there is no concrete evidence that it came from Thomas?"

"At the moment no, but its too much of a coincidence for my taste."

"How many SOS signals thus far?" Angseth asked.

"Twenty, perhaps more," Serec began to wish for his own glass of water. "We've been a little too busy to look."

Angseth thought for a moment, then said. "Copy the files into a database so I can peruse them. But I want all the drives and servers containing the originals to be physically removed and placed in stasis. They are not to be touched or accessed until I can get them to data-systems forensic authorities. I don't care how clean the hacker thinks he's done this job, somewhere, someone screws up," she looked at her empty glass and rubbed her forehead. The water had lessened the cramps, but didn't take them away entirely. "I don't want to worry about Thomas's motives, that's out of my hands. Right now I just want to focus on the lives of our crew. I've been going over the inventory numbers, and while we are not in danger just yet, stopping off at a refueling point couldn't hurt."

"Good luck on finding one," Serec snorted. "Ever since Thomas gave us the ultimatum, the Mabus has been pursued by both Syrese and Gamma Fleet forces."

Angseth turned her full attention toward him. "Both? Why would the Syrese want to attack us?"

"We've been trying to figure that out," Briar said.

She leaned back in her chair, searching her mind for any kind of information she may have gathered on the outside. The news feeds hadn't said anything about Syrese forces outright attacking Confederate ships. She was certain that if any notion of that got loose in the Network they would never hear the end of it. Her right hand drifted toward a navigation screen. Without looking she pulled up star charts, and then plotted the course the Mabus would have taken if they hadn't been sent to SR3-88. Briar and Serec watched.

"What are you doing Captain?" Serec asked. He knew that expression on her features. He had seen the wrinkles on her forehead appear several times during his service, and they always foretold the coming of some great strategy.

"Briar, you said that you had been going over the charts, right?"

"Yes, almost everyday."

"Can I see what you had been working on?"

Briar pulled up his own files, causing Serec to duck and weave out of the way of so many windows at once. "This is what I had."

"And this is where you had encountered Pirate activity, and here is where you encountered Syrese forces…" she studied the charts. "That's too damn close," she overlapped the charts with others. "Plot out the SOS signals."

It took a moment to pull the proper codes from the files, but soon the charts before her illuminated with tiny red dots. Angseth sat back with her arms folded and a smirk crossed her lips.

"Do you see what I see boys?"

And Briar gave himself a mental kick in the ass for not coming across it sooner. The Pirate attacks and the SOS signals created a border along the edge of Syrese space. When the attacks on the Mabus were taken into consideration, it was all too easy to see that the Mabus was getting isolated from the rest of Syrese space.

"Why isolate us?" Briar asked.

"Don't know…" Angseth countered. She once again looked at the empty glass on her desk. "Since we have reason to believe that this entire mission was a farce, why include us on the mission to SR3-88?"

"Maybe we weren't supposed to make it back?"

"I don't think that's the case. We're almost literally surrounded by Syrese and Pirate forces, they could descend upon us at anytime. No…they want us alive," The Captain mumbled. "Svenson…was very nervous at the wedding…wasn't he?"

"I have no doubt that he knew something."

"I'm sure of it. He was the one that launched the pods and bailed," The smirk had returned. "Perhaps we should locate our dear Science Officer and ask him a few questions."

"A move as bold as that is unlike you Captain," Briar commented.

"My stay with the Chozo had assured me that nothing is wrong with SR3-88-SOL. If there had been, they would be the first to study it. Svenson was up to something, and Thomas had a hand in it," she stood from her desk. "Track down Svenson. He's not military, so we won't need a warrant to apprehend him."

"But what about the blockade?"

Angseth snorted. "When have you ever known me to stay where I was supposed to?"

Briars eyes darkened.

"Dismissed."

* * *

Angseth slipped out of her formal uniform, and slipped into her favorite pair of sweat pants along with a plain white t-shirt. She had plotted a new course for the Mabus, staying within the blockade for the moment, allowing her crew time to rest. As long as they stayed here, they were safe. She was also awaiting word from Weavel. Either they found Svenson first, or Weavel located Aran. Whichever one landed on her desk first would be the one she committed her energy and the crews resources toward. For the moment she had a few hours of time off, Briar was back in the captain's chair on the bridge, and Sakari had just asked her to come down to the Med Bay to glance over the five people that had been rescued from the Seattle. Angseth was anxious to interview them, hoping that one would have some information about what had happened aboard the station. But first, she had some more important business to attend to:

Introducing her crew to her new Morph Ball.

She pressed the button to open the door to her quarters, then leaned out of the doorway, looking both right and left to ensure that there was no one else in the hall. Perfect. Vera smiled as she tucked her arms in and crouched. She felt that little mental click in the back of her mind, and it only took a step to make her glide out the door. It slid shut behind her. She rolled only a few feet before Osa, her navigator, stepped out of her room, looked down at the black sparking ball on the floor, and screamed.

Angseth suppressed her giggles as she continued up the halls, surprising various crew members. Immature? Yes, she didn't argue with that. Fun? Oh most definitely. Did it help the crew that had been on high alert for the past month? That had yet to be seen. Vera was busy discovering an entirely new world inside of her own ship. She had no idea that many of the maintenance ducts were so much fun to roll through!

Vera had just finished exploring a system of ducts when she fell through some loose grating right into the middle of an empty fighter bay where the troops were busy playing a basketball game with her fighter pilots. Not only did the fall cause her some pain, but she surprised the hell out of Bearn, Dr. Sakari's husband. Bearn's first instinct, understandably, was to yell for his troops to form up. What Angseth didn't expect was for Bearns armor-clad foot to come out of nowhere and kick her like a football. She popped out of her Morph Ball form in mid-air and sailed a good twenty feet before colliding with a cargo net holding supply crates in place.

Angseth hit the ground hard, and took a moment to recover, holding her back. "Damn Bearn! That hurt!" She shouted.

Bearn froze, dropping his fighting stance. His normally dark and handsome features twisted into befuddlement.

"As you were," Angseth sat down on another crate and watched as the game began again. Bearn took a moment to study his Captain over again before jumping back into the basketball game. Over the next few hours, Vera even played a few spurts, sometimes siding with her fighter pilots, sometimes with her ground troops. She left the bay happy and sweaty.

When she took her Morph Ball form again, the crew seemed to be a little more used to it now that word had a chance to get around. Some crowded into doorways to get a look, some saluted, and others cheered. Her plan had worked. The crew now talked about things other than how bleak their situation had been.

Sakari met her at the doorway to the Med Bay, as expected. Like her husband, she extended one foot and stopped the Morph Ball as if it were some large child's toy. Vera winced as she thumped the top of the ball with the datapad in her hands.

"Wipe your treads and get in here Captain."

Angseth popped out of the form with a smile, and stretched. "Good evening to you too Sakari."

"I wish you had told me about that thing sooner. Then I wouldn't have wasted so much time researching those odd cybernetics," she led Angseth into her back office. "I'm surprised that you didn't get shot at."

Angseth quickly changed the subject. "Briar had said that the people we had rescued from the Seattle are thawed."

"Not all of them. Only two have made it thus far. I miss calculated when I asked Bagra to give him the news."

Vera sat down in a chair and resigned herself to another few hours wasted sitting in front of holo screens reading otherwise boring data.

"I am glad that you came, I had wanted to talk to you directly. Things just got stranger."

Considering that Angseth had just spent the past two hours rolling around the Mabus surprising her crew members, she wondered how much stranger events could become.

"After I meet with you, I'll fill Briar and Serec in. They need to know about this too."

"Something wrong with the cryo-pods?"

"Yes. They didn't come from the Seattle."

"What…"

"Quiet for a moment. The people inside the last three are unknowns, and the cryo stamp is almost two years before the date we received them."

"They were stashed there."

"That's what I'm thinking."

"And you were unable to open the pods."

"I had to be sure of the time stamp because I didn't want to harm anyone inside. But the first two have been thawed, and the last three are in the process. I want to be as careful as possible. I called you here not only to tell you that, but I needed someone else to see this."

"See what?"

Sakari stood, closing the holo windows. "You're aren't going to believe who is in one of these pods."

Angseth pulled herself to her feet, followed Dr. Bearn's thin frame out of the office, and through the Med Bay to a separate area where three large cryo-pods hovered over the floor. The pods were large cylindrical objects, with small viewing windows over where a person's head would be, indicating that these were specifically for long-term cryostasis. Short-term cryostasis didn't require so much equipment or back-up systems. Along the side of each pod, a system of lights indicated the status of the individual contained within. All three of these pods displayed that the contents were three-quarters of the way thawed. Once they were fully thawed, Sakari would remove the contents and place the person under surveillance for seventy-two hours. If the person's life-signs didn't show any signs of stability after that length of time, then there were any number of choices she would need to make to ensure the safety of the patient. Long-term Cryostasis was never popular. Bringing someone out of long-term stasis was risky. This was because of the delicate hydration process.

For the longest time Humans couldn't figure out how to effectively freeze a flesh and blood creature. The biggest problems arose because Humans are made of so much water. When water freezes, it expands. Hence, when a human is frozen, the water in their body expands and rips all the delicate tissue to shreds. The result is never pleasant to clean up. Short-term cryostatsis had been invented, but it wasn't really a freezing process, not in the true sense of the word. Angseth had always thought of it as "hibernation". A day spent cleansing your body, and few injections of hormones and other substances later, and your body would enter a state of sleep. Regular intervals of injections kept your body in a state of chemical suspense. This process worked fine for travel durations of less than six months, and had primarily been used to save energy on large colony ships. After a certain amount of time depending on age and physical attributes, the human would inevitably wake up. And very many horror stories had been told as a result of untimely arousals from short-term cryostasis. Everyone in the Confederate Military had to undergo short-term Cryo at one point or another. Vera _hated_ it.

Long-term cryo was crude, expensive, and when done properly, highly effective. Long-term cryo incorporated a freezing process, coupled with dehydration. Long-term also required a much longer preparation period. It involved a systematic replacing of the bodies fluids with substances and other fluids that didn't freeze, or froze at different temperatures. A human would often die in the preparation process, and re-hydrating the body as it came out of stasis was equally as risky. Once again there were horror stories and legends of people that had been frozen, and thawed, then died, or stories of someone who had been thawed only to discover they never survived the freezing to begin with. The calculations had to be very precise, with no room for error to ensure that someone would survive the process. But when it was done correctly, the results were worth it. Long-term cryostasis was reserved only for the most desperate situations where someone would need to be frozen for a year or more. Short-term cryo still incorporated an aging process, as long as the body worked, it aged. Long-term cryostasis didn't carry the risk of aging. The longest a being had ever gone in long-term cryo was five thousand years, and he didn't look a day over twenty years old when he had been thawed. Entire planets had been terra-formed and seeded with long-term cryo pods, set to open in one or two thousand years when the planet would then be able to sustain life. It made for a booming business in the investment market. Angseth knew of wealthy families that had deposited a little over one thousand credits into a low-interest account, jump into long-term stasis, and awaken as millionaires.

And as she examined these long-term cyro pods, she wondered if any of these people fell into that category. For a moment Vera entertained the thought that Aran might be in one of these, it would certainly make her mission much easier. Sakari swept around to her right and approached the pod on the far side of the room. "This one," she pointed. "Take a glance through that view window and tell me I'm not losing my mind."

_ You lost that the moment you signed up on this ship._ Angseth bit back her smart comment, and approached the pod. She lifted her left hand and brushed the frost away from the window, her jaw immediately dropped. "You've got to be shitting me."

Admiral Mirson lay inside, his eyes closed, his face registering the calm expression of sleep.

* * *

The computer counsel in the center of the room chimed. Weavel snapped out of "sleep" and looked across the room at Sand/Gregory's form suspended from the ceiling on a silken thread. All of his legs had been tucked into a central point, and his ruby eyes were closed. The cyborg stood and tapped the glass tarantula on one of his leg plates, causing his form to sway. Sand moaned, and extended all eight of his legs in a stretch before cutting the thread and dropping from the ceiling. "What?"

_ "The computer made a noise. I think it's done."_

Sand squinted his eyes and looked at the clock. "Yeah, took long enough to complete," the spider slipped through the small crack in the wall again, a moment later Weavel could hear a coffee pot start up. Sand re-emerged, then plopped back down on his central seat. "Okay, what do we have here?" Weavel folded his arms and stood back as Sand scrolled through what seemed to be pages of numbers. "Okay, I've got a bead on most of the cargo that had come and gone. Due to the 'atmospheric disturbance' of FQ3-59, most of it is trash," he scrolled down the list. "But there are two on here that I don't understand…"

_ "Can you identify-"_

"Hold yer processors for a second, Shockwave," Sand pulled up a pair of windows. "They're listed as a set of spent warp cores, which would need to be kept in extremely cold conditions. They originated from this one science vessel, the Aristotle. Funny thing is, the Aristotle has a fusion drive. Come on guys, give me more of a challenge than that," his legs all settled into their ports. "Pulling up a cargo listing for the Aristotle for the past few months…Here we go," he highlighted an area on the screen. "Received shipment of biological samples from FQ3-59."

_ "Biological samples?"_

"Yeah, surprised they didn't label it as office furniture," Sand scrolled through the ships logs. "Yeah, this has got to be it, no where else does it state 'biological samples' on the ships inventory. And it shouldn't. The Aristotle, according to its file in the Confederate archives, investigates the effects of different types of radiation on a ships Aura."

_ They would be equipped with the ability to create high-powered beta waves._ Weavel felt what little blood he had left run cold.

"And then two 'warp cores' leave the ship a week later."

_ "Where did they go?"_

"Hold on,"

Weavel began to grow impatient. He wanted to find whatever Confederate force was responsible for Aran's capture, and then make them suffer.

Gregory noticed his agitation. "Hey, hey! Power down before you hurt something in here! I'm working at it!"

_ "You're not going as quickly as you were last night,"_

"I also had three pots of coffee last night, and right now I'm trying to track this shit down, and do my job at the same time," Sand countered. "Lets see…one core was shipped to Rovien, and the other….Anubus IV."

_ "What?"_

"Yeah, Anubus IV I could see, but Rovien? No way," Sand mumbled. "And I lose the trail there. Both Rovien and Anubus are locked up tight. A level VII clearance isn't enough to get me into Anubus IV's systems. Likewise, Rovien runs on it's own network, with a firewall to put the Confederate Data Banks to shame."

_ "But can you get in?"_

"No. But you can," Gregory packaged up a few files and sent them to Weavel. "If you can get inside, this should help you out in finding her. Although I doubt that you'll need them. I'm not making the trip, and to do a more effective job I'd need to patch in directly. But this should at least narrow your searches down a bit. Then again, you could just be chasing a data ghost."

_ "A what?"_

"A red herring, uh…something to throw you off track," Sand mumbled. "We call them Data Ghosts."

Weavel perused the file, as far as he could see, it only contained a basic search program. He would need to go out on the limb and trust Sand.

"I've also included a map to get back to your ship without running into any of the Marines downstairs."

_ "You've been very generous. Why?"_

"Aran helped me to pay off my debt, and get me legal again. I owe her big. Just like you owe her big, Mr. Prince Siafu," Sand said with a slight grin evident in his voice. "Don't give me that look, who do you think helped her to do the data gathering? Geez, without me that woman couldn't hack her way out of a wet paper bag."

That didn't set well with Weavel, the idea that Aran needed someone else's help was so foreign. This was a woman who had faced Ridley on many occasions, often destroying planets in the process.

"And you're even worse!" Sand laughed, and sipped his first cup of coffee. "Just get her back okay. Everyone misses her."

_ Everyone who?_ Weavel almost asked. He dropped the line of questioning. Aran wasn't his friend, she was a business partner. She wasn't his friend…was she? Hell, he could just drop everything right now and send Angseth the information he had and let her take care of it. Place all the responsibility on her shoulders, and then go off and complete his bounties. But no. He couldn't. Aran had helped him, and she had placed _trust_ in him. People like Aran, or Angseth for that matter didn't trust easily. He had done nothing to make either one of them trust him, yet they did. Another piece clicked into place. Could it be that Aran had wanted him to meet Angseth? Was this one of the only ways the he would even step into the same room with someone from the Confederate military? The meeting wasn't for his benefit, nor was it for the benefit of either Aran or Angseth. It was for the benefit of the Siafu. He was a Prince, like it or not, he was a figurehead, and since he was in a position of authority, he could speak on behalf of his people. He didn't want to, he didn't feel very qualified for it, but he had to. He had watched everyone suffer at Ridleys hand for much too long.

And if there was any cause the Confederates could stand behind, it was freeing a people from tyranny.

To do that, he would need to make contact with an officer…like Captain Angseth of the Battlecruiser Mabus.

"Hey, E-Z Bake, what's got your processors in a fizzle?"

_ "Gathering my thoughts,"_ Weavel stood. _"Well met Sand. I thank you."_

"Whoa, I got a thank you out of a bounty hunter! Sweet!"

Weavel stepped out the door. He felt he had a good idea of whom on Rovien that he needed to speak to.

* * *

Briar stopped outside Angseth's office door. He shifted the datapad in his hands, then rang the chime. The door immediately opened, inside he could see Mr. and Dr. Bearn seated on a lounge, while Serec had taken a folding chair in the corner, surrounded by his little army of holo screens. There was one office chair in front of Angseth's desk, turned slightly as if awaiting his presence. Lieutenant Briar entered the room, and was surprised to find that he was the only one in uniform. Everyone else had been dressed casually. The doors to Angseth's quarters were open, and she stood inside unpacking the bags she had brought with her on her trip.

"I take it she called everyone out of bed?" Briar announced.

Serec glanced up. "No, we're all just playing some basketball with the pilots and troops down in bay eight."

"Basketball?"

"Yeah, did wonders for everyone. I could have definitely used the R&R," Serec smirked. "We would have called you, but you had set all of your pagers to a 'busy' status."

Briar took a chair. "Well, I won't keep everyone waiting any longer then," he didn't like basketball, but he still wouldn't have turned down the opportunity to drop everything and play along.

Angseth stepped out of her quarters holding, of course, a glass of water. She still wore her sweatpants and t-shirt, the smell of her sweat wiped the sour expression off Briar's face. His ears picked up, and his entire body language seemed to change. As she sat down, she pulled a strange gold ball from her pocket, and placed it on the desk. It rolled a few inches, then came to a rest.

"What is that?" Serec asked.

"A little souvenir from Aether. Luminoth Mead."

"Ooohh," her engineering officer sang. "Often imitated, never duplicated. Please tell us you'll share."

"Of course, other wise I wouldn't have brought it out," she analyzed the ball. "I think there will be enough here for each of us to have a shot."

"Will that be enough?"

"Two sips was enough to get me hammered on Aether."

"Oh now I really must have some," Serec, the resident lush, actually moved a few of his holo windows to better see the bubble on the desk.

Angseth turned to the Bearns on the lounge. Sakari was leaning against her husband, Zaine, her dark mouth opened with a yawn. "But first we have some data to process. Briar, you said that you had gotten a bead on Science Officer Svenson?"

Briar smirked. "Yes. It seems as if he isn't doing a great job of staying hidden. Well, it seems as if he isn't trying," the now familiar wall of holo windows appeared around him showing new data. "Our Science Officer fled to Rovien. I think he's trying to hide among his own people. But he can't hide from the billing activity of all seven of his Confederate credit cards. He's been making regular purchases, and after tracking down his bank statements, it would seem that he was paid quite well for dropping that stuff off on SR3-88. To the tune of seventy billion Confederation credits."

Angseth smiled. "With a paycheck like that, it seems that I'm in the wrong business," That comment drew a few tired chuckles. "But you're certain that he's on Rovien?"

"Not one hundred percent certain, but confident enough to bet on it."

"That's good enough for me," Angseth pulled up a window on her desk, and studied the star charts there. "We need to get to Rovien. Svenson chose a good place to run to. Just outside of Draco's boundaries, but not quite as far as the Tal'Queni Empire."

"There's still the matter of that blockade," Briar spoke.

"Yes there is," Angseth traced her light pen over the little red dots on the chart. She rubbed her forehead and gulped down more water. The headache was back in full force, as were all of the body aches. She tried not to reveal too much discomfort, but the concerned glances from her core crew were enough to let her know that the ruse wasn't working. Her pain meant nothing at present. It was nothing compared to what they would all be going through if she didn't succeed in her mission. "We need to minimize our Aura, and then warp out."

"Captain, you can't be serious," Briar spoke.

"You think I'm not?" she fixed her gaze on him. "We can't stay here. We can't wait for help to come, because the Mabus was sent out to SR3-88 with sub-standard supplies, then spent over a month there for the sole purpose to starve us. And now the blockade is doing the same, we sit here going through our supplies, and soon the crew will begin to feel the pinch. The more it pinches, the more anxious and afraid the crew will become. We all know what happens when a crew mutinies. Everyone in this room knows our situation, and you all know that we can't spend another week parked here. After we've become desperate, then the Pirates will move in. I am not going to allow this ship and her crew to fall apart. I will not be the one to stand there and slaughter my own men to defend the bridge and my officers because some trigger happy private decides that the Captain isn't doing a good enough job of ensuring the safety of the crew. We cannot stay here Lieutenant Briar," Angseth paused, and then rested her hand against her forehead. That little speech was going to cost her. She had never exploded like that on anyone before, let alone her core crew. Vera tried to recover from her outburst. "Rovien, will be a good place to purchase new supplies, after that we will continue our mission."

Briars eyes narrowed. "And what mission is that Dear Captain? Patrolling the boarder regions? Or your search for a bounty hunter?"

The anger flared again. This time it made itself evident with words instead of fists. "You are on very thin ice Nevada," her voice was hard.

"No, it's time that someone said something. I don't know what your fascination is with Aran, but it's hurting your judgment and your crew. Something has gotten into you Vera, I don't know what it is, and I'm getting the feeling that I can't stop it. You've been very aggressive lately, and not been acting like yourself. I want you to come to your senses before someone gets hurt."

Angseth closed her eyes, then reached out to her desk to steady herself. "Nevada. If you have any complaints about me, then please don't embarrass yourself by bringing them up in front of the rest of the crew," she opened her eyes, and the room seemed to spin around her. Vera closed her eyes and covered her face with her hand. "Listen, I won't lie to you, or anyone else in this room. I will ensure that everyone on board this ship gets home safely. That is my first priority. Aran also plays a large hand in this, I have orders from Admiral Mizzen, and the Chozo to locate her as soon as possible, and to return her to her people. That is also part of my mission. All of us in this room have been under a lot of stress of late and we cannot afford to start bickering now. We cannot lose our shit in front of the crew," she let her hand drop, but kept her eyes closed. She wanted to sleep. Her head hurt and her muscles were sore. "After we get Svenson, we will then find a station to dock with until we have further orders from the Confederate authorities."

Dr. Bearn slowly stood and walked up toward Angseth. "Vera…are you feeling okay?"

"No, I'm not. I feel very sleepy suddenly."

Sakari's shoulders dropped. "Go on, get some rest."

Angseth tried to read the expression on her friend's features, then after taking in the confused and frightened glances from around the room, she pushed off her desk and walked into her personal quarters. As soon as she stepped into her room, she stumbled, and caught herself. Sakari stepped in behind her, checking her over. Briar stepped into the room after her.

Serec called in from her office. "Hey! Did you get into the Mead before we had a chance to?"

"Not now Serec!" Angseth sat down on her couch, and rested her head in her hands.

"Are you in pain?" Dr. Bearn asked.

"No, just my head, and I'm very tired."

Briar knelt on the floor before her. "Vera?"

"I'm fine, and I'll continue to be fine." .

"You didn't overdo it playing basketball did you?" he sighed, then ran his fingers over his scalp. Sakari slipped past him, and out the door. "I'm worried about you."

"I know you are."

"I'm not the only one under a lot of stress."

"I know," Angseth stood, stepping away from the couch, and turned toward Briar. "What is it you want from me Nevada?"

"I don't want anything _from_ you. I just want you to be safe and happy."

"I understand that Nevada. But right now we have a job to do. This isn't about Us. It's about our job," she closed the door to her office and locked it. Now she could deal with Briar, and hopefully keep the gossip on the ship down to a dull roar, much like this headache.

Briar watched her close the door, and his ears splayed to his sides. If he wasn't careful, then the next few minutes would be very painful. "Vera listen,"

"No. I don't want to talk right now,"

"Please listen to me."

"I don't want to talk right now."

"Why not?"

"I don't feel like arguing!" She exploded.

"We are not arguing!" He yelled back.

Angseth folded her arms as if to punctuate her point. "Not now."

"Okay," he folded one ear back, as if to block against an upcoming assault. "Maybe we are arguing."

"Nevada, I'm only going to ask you once. Please get out of my room. If you do not leave, I will call up my personal guard to remove you."

"I can't believe you're kicking me out. I just wanted to speak with you."

Vera's hand hovered over a call button on her wall.

Briar's ears folded back again. "I'm going."

Angseth watched him leave, then locked the door behind him and put her com on "away" status. She had a lot of thinking to do, and right now Nevada wouldn't help. Her head was one thing, getting out of this blockade was quite another.

Vera sat down on her bed, and lifted both hands to run her fingers through her hair. She needed time to cool down, Nevada needed time to cool down, and poor Mr. and Dr. Bearn had been caught in the middle. She wasn't worried about Serec. He knew that she and Briar were less than perfect beings. _Am I really that worried about losing face? I've been working with these people for years. We've seen each other at our best, and at our worst. Why am I so concerned now?_

Angseth dropped her hands from her hair, and looked up at her wardrobe where most of her personal possessions were kept. She lifted her hand and slid open the door. Inside she saw her jewelry box, a small simple wooden thing, filled with small simple pieces of jewelry. There was nothing there that would help her think, but she was still drawn to it. She pulled out the box, and opened it. There. Her mother's earrings and headband. The stones were as brilliant blue as she remembered them. Vera reached for them, and immediately an arch of energy moved from her fingertip to the stones.

She dropped the box and clapped both hands over her mouth. She slid off her bed and onto the floor, her legs folding underneath her. _Crazy Vera, you're finally losing it. Between the Chozo, Luminoth, and your crew, you are finally losing your mind._ Vera looked down at all the spilled shiny things. Mementos from another time. The fear began to creep into her chest, and she lifted her hands a little to cover her eyes, as if that would help keep the pain at bay. Tears seeped from her fingers and she breathed heavily, silently. After a moment of terror, she regained some kind of control, still unaware of why she felt the way she did at the moment. Not even ten minutes ago she had been laughing with the crew at all their silly memories, and now here she was crying like a child that had been sent to her room.

Angseth began to collect the little pieces of twisted wire and gemstones, and placing them back in the box. Soon the only pieces left to put away were her earrings and headband. She stared at them for a full minute before she reached for them again. Once again there was the arch of energy, flaming blue and purple. She could feel it travel up her fingers, through her arm. Her head dropped back against her bed as she closed her eyes. A cry escaped her lips, one of surprise and oddly enough…pleasure.

Her fingers closed around the earrings, holding that energy close to her palm. Her mouth hung open as her head rolled forward. The pain had left. Her headache suddenly gone, and replaced by all this energy. Every cell in her body was alive and active, buzzing with power. This was what she needed. Something deep, like instinct, confirmed all of these new emotions. She needed this power. This power needed her, and damn it felt good. So good.

Her lips parted again, and the corners turned into a smile. This first giggle broke into the silent room, and she didn't attempt to smother it. The giggles grew louder as she rested her head against the bed again. The pain was gone, and in it's place, power. Angseth cackled into the empty room, lifting the earrings to her cheek and feeling their power buzz against her skin. She closed her eyes and fell to the floor, inhaling the energy pouring from her fingers.

Vera lay there for a moment, feeling the last little shakes of power settle into her bones. She felt good, refreshed, renewed. She stroked the smooth surface of the blue stones, staring into their depths. She had no idea of what had just happened, or why it did. But she soon came to the realization that if she told anyone in her crew, she would spend the rest of this trip locked up in stasis next to Mirson. Too much was riding on her shoulders, too many lives were at stake. Besides, she felt fine, better than she had in a long time. As long as she didn't do anything too stupid, she could pull out of it.

_I can do this. I'm in control…I'm in complete control. _She held to that thought.

If Weavel had been there at that moment, he would disagree.

* * *

Angseth sat in her Captains chair, glancing at the star charts she had plotted earlier. The atmosphere on the bridge was light, and hopes were high. Mama was home, and she would take care of everything. She had slept like the dead last night, and she supposed that playing basketball with her troops, combined with using the Morph Ball around her ship would account for much of her exhaustion the night before.

"I see you're wearing your old earrings," Briar commented.

"We all have our own security blankets," Vera whispered under her breath.

"I still don't like this idea."

"They won't fire upon us," Angseth said with all certainty. "If they had wanted to kill us, they would have done so by now."

"How can you be so sure?"

The Captain smiled. "I think they are quite aware of our frozen cargo."

"You mean…the Admiral?"

"Yes. I think that once he's thawed, we are going to learn everything we need to know," she absently lifted her hand and played with her earring. "Here. This would be the best point to punch through. It'll put us right on target with Rovien."

"Yes Captain." Briar straightened up in his chair.

Angseth leaned back in her chair. "Osa."

"Yes Captain?"

"Plot out this course, and have all our weapons systems at the ready."

"Do you expect resistance Captain?"

"I always expect resistance," Angseth fixed her gaze on that little line of red dots. _I'm back in control of this ship now, and I dare anyone in Gamma Fleet, or this so-called Syrese Republic to keep me from my goals._


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18:

"Captain, Rovien is in sight."

"Well done, notify me as soon as we receive a hail," Angseth stated. She studied the main screens around her and the scans they had taken. As expected they had passed through the Gamma Fleet blockade without any resistance. She didn't know why, but the pirates had parted way for the Mabus, and even gave it a wide enough corridor to travel through without disrupting its Aura. As the Captain pondered this, Nevada settled on the arm of her chair, that ever-present datapad in hand. Angseth closed down a few holo windows and rubbed her forehead, then moved to her earrings. Just a small touch was enough to make the minor headache leave. "Are you sure that Svenson is here?" She asked hesitantly.

"Yes, unless all seven of his Confederation credit cards had been stolen, and used here," Briar sighed. He looked up from his datapad to see his Captain playing with her earrings again. She turned as if sensing his gaze and locked her eyes on his.

"Briar, I'm," she adverted her eyes.

"Its okay. We were all under a lot of stress yesterday. I know that at times I can be clingy. When I see that you're hurt, or broken, I want to try to fix you. Even though I know I can't always help. I still want to try."

She let go of her earring, and sighed. "I feel much better today. I guess I've been under more stress than I thought."

Nevada rested his hand on her shoulder. He pulled himself closer and whispered. "I'm here for you Vera. I understand."

Angseth rested her hand over his. Her mind had been pulled in two directions for so long. Part of her wanted to apprehend Svenson and use whatever information he had to bring in Thomas. Another part kept venturing more frequently to Aran and ever more frequently, Weavel. Ever since she had picked up those earrings last night, her thoughts had become clearer, more focused. Confederate forces had captured the Hunter for Goddess only knew what purpose, and she felt guilty for it. Vera had run. She couldn't get that out of her head. She had run away like a scared Cadet at her first dead body. That cowardly act had been eating away at her for the past month. She could either command the Mabus, or once again abandon her post and go with Weavel to find Aran. If the Chozo were indeed arming, it wouldn't take much for them to start fighting again, and the Confederation would get caught in the middle.

"Captain, we're receiving a hail." Bagra announced.

"I'll take it up here," Angseth let go of Briars hand and straightened up as the holo before her came to life.

_ "Free State Rovien to unidentified Confederation Vessel,"_ the man on the other end spoke. _"State you name rank and purpose," h_e have been a long night._ "Please remember that Rovien is an unarmed and peaceful colony. It will do you no good to attack."_

Angseth doubted very much that they were defenseless. She didn't like this traffic controllers attitude either. All the same, she held her tongue and properly introduced herself. "I am Angseth, Captain of Confederation Battle Cruiser, the Mabus. I am here to conduct trade and speak with your head councilman. Please allow me entry into Rovien."

His response was practiced and short. _"We have no facilities to dock a Battle Cruiser. Pick a smaller craft from your fleet and head to gate 43,"_ The holo faded, leaving Angseth with her blood boiling. She hated rude space traffic controllers.

Briar chuckled at her side. "I guess I'll ready a troop transport then."

"Not yet," Angseth took a deep breath. Ever since she left Aether, it had become harder and harder to keep her anger in check. Even minor annoyances seemed to be enough to cause her adrenaline to rise. Meditation had been useful in controlling her anger in the past, and lately she had been neglecting her daily exercises in light of her increasing workload. She closed her eyes, taking in deep breaths. She allowed her mind to wander for a moment, and could feel her anger and frustration like some kind of cobweb, clinging to the corners of her mind and covering all the thoughts that she held close. She pulled the mental cobwebs apart and disposed of them. The tension in her shoulders loosened. Briar once again rested a hand on her shoulder, reassuring her.

When he sensed that the tension within his mate had lessened, only then did he push off the chair to make preparations. Angseth held to his hand for a moment, using his touch and scent to ground her in pleasant emotions and further displace the anger. She spoke as he left.

"Gather some fairly mobile guard with peacekeeping experience, no more than ten troops. I want to get in and out as quickly as possible, before news can spread that we're looking for someone."

"What do you have in mind?"

"We need a plan. I don't want Svenson to escape, and I don't want to give up the element of surprise. We need to call a meeting."

* * *

Rovien, back in it's golden age, was a successful station and served as an outpost for trade on the Outer Reaches long before the Confederation had expanded into the sector over five hundred years ago. Rovien served as the last stop before the large area of empty space that divided the Draco Sector from the Tal'Queni Empire. Its location made it an ideal hub for the arts and technology trade. Its design and marriage of so many different architectural elements from many races caused it to be listed as one of the wonders of the universe. Holos and records that had stood the test of time displayed an elegant station with much attention to detail and craftsmanship. For many years it was the symbol of peace on the Outer Reaches.

Installation of jump gates at competing stations soon caused all traffic to bypass Rovien, marking the beginning of its demise. Local governments dropped Rovien from its funding lists, and the station went into the private possession of Earth-based Sovereign Corp. By then the station had fallen into misuse, and without the trade business to keep it functional, Sovereign Corp. declared bankruptcy after facing opposition from the Ifany moons. After many years in the court system, Rovien had been ultimately declared as unfit for habitation and condemned.

Over the next three hundred years, various people claimed salvage rights on the station, stripping it of all of the treasures that had made it a cultural relic. First to go were the central cores, power sources, transformers, and essential expensive pieces of infrastructure. Next, all the precious metals and minerals were stripped from the interior, the statues taken from the halls, the fine stained glass domes, even the murals painted in the common areas were ripped down and sent off to museums or private homes around the galaxy. Furnishings, light fixtures, even entire decks had been removed, carelessly ripped away from the main structure of the station and sent away to be used elsewhere.

Things were not only taken from Rovien, it also served as a dumping ground. Several companies had been fined for improper disposal of hazardous waste, even though the companies had contended that dumping the waste on what amounted to a mass of rust in space far away from any settlements wasn't going to harm anyone, the Tal'Queni were not too happy about having a dumping ground so close to their boarders. The whole hunk of metal had been an eyesore on the industrial economy until a surprise colonization permit flew through the hands of local officials.

Rovien proved to be an ideal location for a small group of scientists to conduct research away from prying eyes and wallets. They fixed a small part of the station, making it capable to support life once more, and lived peacefully. This news attracted many other scientists and engineers, fed up with lack of funding, morals, ethics, and politics, in favor of being around more people inclined to think like them. Rovien provided a relatively safe place to test out new hardware, building materials, and robotics, all with funding from private sources that only cared for the results and not the means of achieving them. Angseth would have been very sad to know that much of the technology that kept her soldiers alive had first been tested on Rovien with the aid of kidnapped prisoners. It didn't take long for the intellectual population of Rovien to grow, and it soon became a home for criminals as wells as general nuisances to society at large.

For all the growth, no central government had ever been established, and the Confederation never had an interest in absorbing Rovien into their collective. There were many rumors as to the real reason, but general consensus was that too many politicians took bribes from the companies who paid Rovien to do their research. Instead of a central government, Rovien was run like a large gated community. An elected committee and chairman kept watch over basic needs, and a volunteer force kept the peace. It was a constant competition between the engineers to see who could build a better system for utilities, and the elected committee would post contests and funding for what was needed. Rovien also had the oddest rules in regards to immigration and criminal matters. Any wanted criminal or bounty could claim sanctuary within the walls of Rovien, and Rovien had no screening process against immigration. If any outside force wanted to capture someone who had claimed sanctuary, then they had their work cut out for them.

First, they would need to supply their own peacekeeping force to go in and pull the criminal out themselves, or provide a good enough warrant and bribe money to get the community to cough them up. In the case of a Confederation vessel, the commanding officer, or the highest rank on the ship, would need to go in personally, and lay hands on the criminal. That method never worked out smoothly because the Chairman would often intercept the officer first, and keep them until the business was done, rendering it impossible to make an arrest. Any other attempt to capture someone was considered and treated as a kidnapping. There had only been two successfully served warrants in Roviens history. Angseth hoped to make that three.

Angseth and her core crew officers, Briar, Serec, Dr. Bearn, Commander Bearn, and Xon, all sat in the cramped meeting room. Hovering between them was a holo of Rovien, all of its decay clearly visible. Different areas illuminated according to Svensons last known whereabouts. Briar explained the data.

"From the intelligence that we have gathered, we have tracked S.O. Svenson here. From credit transactions, we can determine that he is in the lower levels of the station. This area is not structurally sound, and has large gaps that open into space with only minimal shielding in place. Please use extreme caution."

Angseth then spoke up. "We want to get in and out quickly. Since we have such a young crew, there aren't many with proper peacekeeper training. Due to Rovien's odd rules, I will need to accompany the apprehension team. That means that I need someone to take my place in greeting the Chairman."

"He'll know that it's not you," Briar commented. "He will insist on speaking to our Captain."

Angseth rested her gaze on Sakari. "Then we'll have to give him the Captain."

Sakari's eyes narrowed. "There is no way I can dress in a uniform and pretend to be you. We don't have the same facial structure in the least, or the same kind of hair."

"I can fix that," Serec quickly chimed in. "Got this little baby off one of the boys during our last security check." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a thin blue wire with two glowing bulbs at either end. He rested the item in his palm with a smile.

"A PLASMA?" Angseth laughed.

"Yep, a Personal Light Alternating Subterfuge Module Assistant." Serec held it up with a smile. "I had it programmed for Briar's face, but I can change it."

Sakari leaned over studying it. "What is it?" she asked skeptically.

Serec slipped the wire around his neck and twisted one of the bulbs. What seemed like a wire screen made of light covered his skin, then grew solid. New features began to cover his face, and after a moment a perfect replica of Lieutenant Briars head sat on Serec's shoulders. "See? It's just a minor PLAZMA, no hard light, no voice altercations, but I guess if you were careful, you could sound like the Captain with a cold." Serec/Briar's features smiled. Angseth had to stifle a giggle, the resemblance was uncanny.

The real Briar didn't look happy. He sat glaring at Serec with a hatred in his green eyes not seen since his Academy days. "I think I know how the ships guard became so confused at the orders I gave last week."

"Oh it was harmless fun!" Serec laughed. "If I just get into the right state of mind…here…" he took a few breaths and closed his eyes, and when they reopened, Angseth watched in amazement as Serec mimicked Briar exactly. The facial expression, the way his shoulders were set.

"That's creepy," Sakari announced. "But I still didn't accept this mission."

"Sakari. You are the only person on this ship I trust enough to take my place. If you accept, I'll make it worth your time."

Dr. Bearn folded her arms. "How?"

Angseth played on the Doctors only weakness. "How does a three thousand credit bonus sound?"

Serec pulled off the PLASMA, and held it out to her.

Sakari looked down at the bit of wire. "Fine." She took the PLAZMA and inspected it. "Three thousand credits, in advance."

"Sounds fair," Angseth seconded. "I can loan you a spare uniform. We're about the same height."

Sakari turned the piece of wire in her hands. "I had been wondering when I'd get a promotion. Didn't think it would be straight to Captain though."

* * *

Four hours after the meeting found Angseth, her officers, and a small crew of elite soldiers boarding a pair of troop transports. Sakari and Serec would be on the first transport, while Angseth and Briar boarded the second. She knew that the Chairman of Rovien would intercept Dr. Bearn disguised as Decoy Angseth as soon as the ship docked. The real Angseth and her small group of soldiers would then covertly board Rovien on a lower level nearest Svensons last known whereabouts. If all went well, they could be in and out of there in less than an hour.

That is, if all went well.

Then again if all had gone well on TallonIV, Angseth would never have met the Chozo or gotten her nifty new arm.

Before Angseth boarded the transport, she had Serec change the finish on her suit to match that of a troop commander. Gone was the glossy black finish and those two horrible bars had been erased from her arms. She felt nostalgic looking down at the ranking stripes of a troop commander. Something she had never worn, but felt connected to all the same. In her service history she had gone from Marine Private specializing in Communications, to a fighter pilot.

_Exetor wore these stripes,_ she thought distantly. A smile crossed her lips. _Would it be too much to ask if you could watch over me Exetor? I'm all grown up now, I'm not the whiny girl I was back on Aether. I really shouldn't need looking after, but I would still appreciate it._ She shook her head, clearing the thoughts away. The energy from the earrings helped to ground her thoughts for the moment, allowing her focus to sharpen once more.

Captain Angseth lifted her arm and saluted Dr. Bearn. Sakari looked good in Captain's bars, and Angseth only found it mildly disturbing to see her own features glaring back at her. _Do I really look that angry all the time?_ The Doctors main job would be to buy the troops time to find and apprehend Svenson. Briar had developed a system to track Svenson through the use of his credit cards and personal paging device. In station of this size, it proved to be the most effective method.

Angseth took a seat in the transport. Commander Zaine Bearn had also joined them on this mission. Vera wasn't going to turn down the help. She waited patiently as the first transport left and docked at gate 43. Four guards had been assigned to Dr. Bearn, and they had strict orders to remain with her until she was safely back on the Mabus. Angseth listened through the com line as Sakari spoke to and greeted the Chairman coldly. Much like Vera would have done herself. _At least the Doctor is in character._ Angseth didn't know if she should laugh or cry at that thought.

Briar tapped Angseth's shoulder. "We're ready…Commander."

Angseth nodded, then sat back as the transport rumbled out of landing bay. The lights on the interior flickered out. They would have to move with as much stealth as possible. Even Briar had no idea as to the severity of Rovien's security systems, or if Rovien even had a centralized security system. Angseth sat in silence, listening to and watching her troops perform last minute inspections of their equipment, or even chat on their HUDs. Briar kept his eye on the pilot, and soon a suitable point was found where the troops could be dropped off. The transport would circle and provide cover when needed. Once docked, the Marines left the ship quickly and neatly, Bearn in the lead and Angseth the last out before Briar joined them.

As soon as they grouped, their HUDs lit up with maps of their current location, as well as the location of each person in the troop. Briar's voice then came over the internal coms. _"Stay close. Svensons last known location is a convenience store down in the lower holds. That was an hour ago. You'll notice that the only areas you have on your maps are business locations. That's the only way I know of to get a good layout at the moment. The maps will fill in as the troop explores. Feel lucky. We're the first Confederate forces to ever map the interior of Rovien."_

Angseth kept to the center of the group as they moved into the lower areas of Rovien. The airlocks and seals on this level were poorly constructed, and the stations hull had been weakened by age and neglect. But that didn't stop people from living here. There were people everywhere, many in advanced stages of Cybernetics. This area seemed to be a business district and one of the most disgusting markets Angseth had ever seen or heard of. Cybernetic parts, organs of all species, electronics, weaponry, all displayed next to various food and medical supplies. In passing she noticed a vendor with several full clips that would suit her Sigel nicely.

_"I don't even want to begin to try and estimate how many safe handling laws they're breaking."_ Angseth commented after noting a booth filled to the brim with explosives, sitting next to a food vendor cooking over an open flame. _"Lets move, quickly."_ She checked her maps. They were close to the convenience store where Svenson had so recently purchased a bottle of water, and a pack of gum. After looking around, she wondered exactly what a convenience store would look like down here.

Locals parted way for the small pack of full suited and armored Marines. A few even shouted offers to buy the power suits. Angseth and her men weren't the only ones wearing power suits down here. Other individuals also moved through the stalls and booths in suits of many makes and models.

_"Hey Cap-…er…Commander, I'm getting all kinds of hits on my most wanted list here,"_ Bearn commented.

Angseth smirked. _"Keep a running tab. We're just here for one man, but I'm sure the Confederation would love the update to their data banks."_

The HUDs suddenly displayed an alert. Svenson had just made a purchase at a bar further up the market. Angseth and her men picked up the pace, moving as one unstoppable herd of plasteel and metal. They moved single file, minimizing the amount of force they would need to move through the crowds. With the aid of the maps, they could see the bar up ahead. A little place really, nothing more than a small room with space enough for a wall of mostly illegal liquor, and two stools. Vera could feel what she could only describe as predatory instinct rise like a fiery, burning, hungry beast in the back of her mind. A sneer crept over her lips.

Svenson stepped out of the bar, and held the door open for another patron, a woman of mixed linage. Her body was that of a human, but her facial features were feline, like Briars. Briar brought the company to a halt, and Angseth slammed hard into Commander Bearn's back. Bearn didn't falter, only looked back at his Captain with a curious glance. Briar pointed his thumb to Edqueh, then brought his hand forward and pointed at Svenson with his first finger. _Follow him._ The gesture said.

Angseth felt her body consumed by rage. Both at having been stopped so suddenly, and also pinned between her troops and this large crowd. But Briar had a point. Who knows how many friends Svenson had here? Edqueh would have to follow until Svenson made it to a more secluded place where they could more easily apprehend him. A new window opened in Angseth's HUD, displaying a visual feed from Edqueh.

Briar opened a private line to Angseth. _"Keep your cool Vera. We can't make this arrest without you. I don't know why you've been letting your control slip lately, but you need to keep your head."_

The line closed, and Angseth fixed her gaze on the internal monitor inside her HUD. She would give Briar a piece of her mind later. For the moment she watched as Edqueh followed Svensons bouncing white mane of hair as he left the market place and turned up a tunnel-like hall. The hall twisted and forked, even though it had very little traffic. Edqueh activated his stealth modifiers, and stayed close.

_"That hall is an ideal place to grab him. Lets go."_ Angseth snorted. She stepped to the side and dropped her shoulder to move to the front of the pack. Briar took her cue and signaled for the rest of the group to move out. The troop navigated the market, before entering the hall. A blip passed over Angseth's radar, but she ignored it. Whatever it was had been too small and insignificant at the moment for her to notice.

She would regret that later.

* * *

Weavel had no problem in his approach to Rovien. He had many friends here, hell even his mechanic called Rovien home. A nice guy named Sacul that Aran had introduced him to. An exceptionally nice guy that fixed all his dents and malfunctions, and even did some work on his craft when it was needed. He spoke at length to the space traffic controller, catching up on the local gossip. If there was ever a place in the universe that he could feel at home, it was here on Rovien. That was one of reasons that Weavel found it so surprising that one of the "warp cores" had been sent here. One of his contacts would have bragged about receiving it by now.

He docked at his mechanics, and began downloading the news. Sacul was out at the moment, but he welcomed Weavels ship. The bounty hunter always paid and tipped well. Aside from hunting down the "warp core," Weavel had another source he was seeking out.

_Theodore Svenson._

He had paid Theo quite a bit of money, a very large sum of money for a mission that as far as he could tell, the little fuck had screwed up. How hard was it to get supplies to a dead world? Did he really need to involve the Confederation? And because of that, Weavels attempt at a coup de tat against Ridley would fail. Not only fail but also destroy all those who had allied themselves with their Prince. There would be more blood on his hands, and the Siafu would further become Ridleys personal army. Not only had Svenson destroyed Weavels faith in him, but also spit in the face of the person who had brought them together.

Samus Aran.

Aran had vouched for Svenson. Convinced Weavel to trust Svenson far enough to get supplies to his people that needed them. Aran had even drawn attention away from SR3-88 so no suspicions were raised. So why then….were two fully loaded Battlecruisers asked to escort a _Science Vessel?!_

And why did one of them have to be Captain Angseth. This was a statement, not a question in Weavels mind. And in her own little way, he could feel the thought and text bubble in the back of his mind, the way Aran would always speak to him. _Because one HAD to be._

_"But why two?"_ Weavel announced to the interior of his ship. _"Because She knew. She __**knew**__ that Draco would soon withdraw."_ He let his head roll forward. He was more comfortable thinking this way. Aran…and Angseth. Aran already knew what was going on. She had a knack for seeing things five, even ten steps ahead of everyone else. Angseth…was an innocent bystander. She happened to be in the right place at the right time…or was she? Aran was the one who suggested the time frame for offloading supplies to SR3-88. She would have access to and know when the Mabus would be docked at Syren1.

_Okay, before I think myself in circles. I already know that Aran knew about Angseth because of her natural abilities, and even if she had suggested that Angseth escort Svenson to SR3-88, why? Angseth is…_ Weavels head lifted. _She's Confederation. Gods be damned Aran, are you moving everyone around like chess pieces?! _ Placing Angseth, or the Mabus in such a far place would ensure that the Draco sector couldn't call complete independence. If Syren made a move against the Mabus, then the rest of the Confederation would come down on them and claim the territory back anyway. If the Mabus remained untouched, it was like having an occupying army in your backyard. _So why is Ridley driving such a hard campaign in the Outer Reaches?…To get the Mabus to move. Why would he want to move the Mabus?_

Thinking in circles again.

What did Weavel know about Ridley? _Ridley doesn't care about life unless it's making him money. Any kind of conflict, between any two large groups, would bring him money. But…if the Confederation started to bicker amongst themselves, then that would weaken them to outside forces. The Chozo are also getting pissed at each other, especially since Aran went missing_. Weavel tried to clear his mind. See the pieces before him.

_Lets say that Ridley did sell Aran out to whatever force is out there. She's out of the way, she won't interfere with his business, and he can handle that. But he would also know that getting Aran out of the way would anger the Chozo. Would he be willing to risk the Chozo's wrath just to get more credits? Maybe he isn't looking for money._

Weavel let his head drop again. It was impossible to figure out what Ridley could possibly be thinking. Right now the only thing that Weavel needed to focus on was finding Svenson, and then pounding the pale human's face in.

It would at least make him feel better.

Weavel stepped out of his ship after charging and restocking his ammo supplies. Aran could afford to outfit her ship with it's own micro munitions factory, but the lesser beings would just have cope with buying their bullets. He locked up his ship, and kept the scans active. If anything outside of Roviens usual suspects came up, he would be the first to know.

Svenson wasn't that hard to find. That surprised Weavel. The man would know better than to go around flaunting his new-found fortune. He didn't have as many friends on Rovien as Weavel did. The bounty hunter didn't even need to delve into the usual methods he used to locate his prey. He just asked around. If Svenson tried to jump on a ship and leave Rovien, Weavels ship would intercept and drag his ass back. Weavel normally didn't have this much confidence in his abilities, but now he was in home territory. And almost everyone knew the white-haired red-eyed freak.

Weavel headed down to the lower holds where the markets were in full swing. Svenson as far as he knew didn't have much interest in weaponry, unless he was looking for something to defend himself against what he should know was coming. Then again, Svenson could be looking for a slave girl. That seemed to suit him more. Satisfied, Weavel stepped out of the transport elevator, and into a narrow seldom traveled hall that opened into the market place.

Surprise, surprise, here came the brat now. Svenson was beating feet the opposite way up the hall, heading right for Weavels location. The skinny creature looked over his shoulder nervously, not paying any attention to the path ahead. He did seem nervous, his body language and quickened pulse betrayed his otherwise calm exterior. _Get too close to an Anthierian slave girl?_ Weavel mused. Weavel stood flush to the wall, near one of the many forks that often confused those not familiar with them. When Svenson came close enough, Weavel reached out and closed his fist around that pale throat.

_"Svenson."_ Weavel stated.

Svenson turned red eyes toward Weavel, whatever had concerned him before now faded as the blood ran from his face, leaving his lips pale and blue. "I can explain!"

_"Before or after I remove your kidneys to sell?"_

"Listen!" Svenson licked his lips and struggled as Weavel lifted him from the floor and slammed into the nearest wall. "GAH! Please listen to me!"

_"Listen to what? I gave you the money, I bought the supplies, and you screwed everything up, my people could be dieing right now because of your cowardly actions!"_

"I have six Confederate troopers on my ass!" Svenson gasped around Weavels Cybernetic fingers. "We can talk about this later!"

_"What?"_ Weavel turned and looked up the hall where Svenson had previously come running.

"I think its Ang-ghhh!" Svenson gurgled as Weavels grip tightened.

"_Silence."_ Weavel readied his Battlehammer ignoring Svenson.

* * *

Edqueh followed Svenson closely, but not too closely. He crept along carefully, trying not to make too much noise in the full power suit. His Captain had chosen him for this mission, and he wasn't going to let her down. Edqueh kept up the visual feed, then noted Svenson looking nervously over his shoulder. Edqueh ducked back around a corner, hiding.

_"Did he see you?"_ Lieutenant Commander Briar said over the com.

"Unconfirmed." Edqueh ventured to peek around the corner. "Damn, I think I lost him."

_"That's not what I wanted to hear._" The Captain this time, and sounding rightly pissed.

"I'll find him." Edqueh ran around the corner, keeping low. The hall forked, and he paused. "He's fast."

_"Hold until we get to your location."_

Edqueh paused to refresh his maps, and then heard a womanish shriek to his left. He followed the sound.

_"Edqueh, what was that?"_

"That's what I intend to find out sir!"

Angseth shouldered past to the front of the line, then ran up the tunnel, following the map Edqueh had made on her HUD. Edqueh announced visual confirmation with Svenson, and she ran faster. However there was someone else with Svenson, someone she didn't expect to see here. Svenson had been pinned against a wall by a cyborg wearing an olive-gray powersuit. The large yellow visor made it impossible to see any facial features. Angseth felt her breath catch in her throat as she rounded the corner with her troops. They fell into formation around her as she stood dumbly. Vera whispered one heartfelt word into her com. _"Weavel."_

As if he had heard her, both Svenson and Weavel turned to look at the incoming Marines. The pair suddenly parted, each running separate ways. Angseth moved to chase Weavel, all thoughts of Svenson forgotten. Why was Weavel here?

Briar suddenly pushed past her and shoved her up the hall where Svenson had run. _"I've got the bounty hunter! Take the troops and get Svenson!"_

For the first time in their long relationship, Vera felt angry at Nevada. This entire mission he had been pushing it. As she turned toward Svensons vanishing bouncing mane of hair, a thought crossed her mind that she both welcomed and repelled.

_If Nevada hurts Weavel, I'm gonna beat the shit outta him._

Angseth fought to level her aggressions against Briar in an alternate direction. Instead of turning around and pounding the Lieutenants smug face in, she focused on Svensons bouncing, thin body as he ran down the hall to parts unknown. Once another distraction had been found, her anger at Briar faded. Svenson was _fast_. Those long legs of his weren't for show after all. That bastard had set them up, placed her crew in danger, and now ran like a scared rabbit. Vera made the conscious decision that she would not allow him to get away. She would catch him or die trying. Besides, the sooner she caught him, the sooner she could see Weavel.

As stated before, Theodore Svenson was a fast moving, gangly thing. He had spent most of his youth in this station fleeing from various bullies and unlikable characters that would sell him to the slave trade if they could catch him. At an early age, Theodore learned the fine art of running. Yet for all intents and purposes, Theo ran like, well…a girl. His legs and feet wildly searched for footholds in the decaying metal floor, while his arms were held tightly to his chest and sides, hands flailing, all the while his waist-length white hair tossed around his head like an ethereal shroud. Angseth noted this with a grin as the hall opened into another market area. Vera was no stranger to running through crowded places. She had hoped that the thicker crowd would have slowed his pace, instead Svenson wove through market stalls and other obstacles in a manner that would make any agility instructor proud.

_"Captain, permission to use a stun pulse?"_

"Denied," she answered reluctantly. "If you miss and hit one of these people it would cause a riot." She didn't want to chance it. Murphy's Law. If it could go wrong, it would. Angseth cursed silently as she watched Svenson outdistance them by slipping through masses of people as if he were made of smoke. The S.O. suddenly darted to his right and began heading for a tram system. Numerous cars had been lined up, and it was about to leave.

The now familiar rage overcame her, consuming her body and vision. _You're not getting away from me._ Angseth felt the heat in her hands, it moved up her arms and legs, her spine, and finally to her mind. This time she didn't fight it, she welcomed it. The burn fed her, gave her all the energy she needed to run. Vera tucked and rolled, the Morph Ball clicked around her, and she boosted, plowing her way through the crowd. At this point she didn't care who was in the way. It didn't take long before people were stumbling over themselves to get out of her way. This sudden burst of strength and speed was welcome. In the space of two seconds, she reached the tram, and popped out of her Morph Ball form. She lifted her right arm, and then pulled off the entire door, twisting bolts and snapping wires in the process.

Angseth paused, staring the hunk of twisted metal in her hand. Not even the aid of a powersuit could justify that kind of strength. Distantly she could hear a woman scream. Vera dropped the door, and turned her hard gaze to Svenson. It wasn't a woman screaming, only Svenson, his voice announcing his fear to the world in a long shriek. "You're under arrest," Vera reached for him. Svenson suddenly executed a blurring, squirrel-like swerve disguised as a twitch, melted off of his seat, then began running through the cars, following the length of the train. With an annoyed groan, Vera started after him. He exited the tram system, Angseth hot on his trail. When her feet left the platform, she cursed as Svenson ran down another set of halls.

_"Captain!"_

Vera felt more confident now that the troops had managed to catch up with her. She called over the com. "There is another densely populated shopping plaza down that tube! If we're gonna get him, then we need to act fast! I grant permission to use stun charges, but only where there is a clear shot!" She started running again, dropping back down into a Morph Ball.

Svenson erupted out of the opposite end of the connecting tube and launched his body into a crowd of one of the busiest black markets in the cosmos. He had no friends here, and these people would sooner toss him to the Marines as a sacrificial distraction to draw Angseth and her troops away from their actions. Svenson was on his own, but so was Angseth. Given enough time he would lose the Marines. The next step after that would be avoiding Weavel. Weavel had many friends in Rovien, and more than a few in the black market.

Svenson was feeling quite full of himself as he rounded another bank of stalls and slowed to a halt near a wall of freight-quality elevators. Angseth was still nowhere in sight. He risked a moment to catch his breath, then felt that same hot breath catch in his throat as the wall of elevators before him opened.

_"Oh for the sake of the Heavenly Virgin!"_

The Hunter herself stepped off the elevator, her big green arm cannon raised and ready to fire, her golden armor catching the soft indirect lighting around her. Svenson performed an immediate about-face, and began running in the opposite direction, right at the Marines.

Angseth had her rifle raised and ready to fire as Svenson had come to a stop before the elevators, when suddenly the crowd parted, revealing a clear shot of Svenson, and the elevator doors opened. Vera gasped when the commanding visage of Samus Aran with arm cannon raised graced her HUD. The Gold and Red armor was unmistakable, even the green visor was complete. The next moment Svenson came running at top speed at Angseth. In that same moment Aran fired, and Angseth froze. She had stared down that barrel many times, but it had never fired at her.

_Is she protecting Svenson?_

Svenson wasn't going to have any part of this battle. A mere moment before the cannon fired, he ducked and rolled. Angseth didn't even have time to register any movement. Her body suddenly curled into the fetal position, and she hit the floor, sliding. She was aware of Svenson jumping over her limp form as energy coursed through her body. _Let it go, don't fight it, let the energy ground._ She reminded herself. It wasn't the first time she had been shot, but this was definitly the most painful.

"_CAPTAIN!"_

Aran moved as the crowd parted, screaming and running. Angseth pulled herself up to a sitting position.

"_Captain? Are you alright?"_

"I'll be fine." Vera gasped. "It just stings…" she looked around. "Svenson? Aran? Where did they go?"

"_Down that way!"_

Angseth struggled to her feet. The sting was fading, her body recovering. "Lets move!" Svenson was getting away, and Aran was shooting to kill. That thin man was now literally running for his life. Vera felt delighted to see Aran again, was that why she saw Weavel here? She had made it off FQ3-59 after all. She was okay. Angseth began running after Aran and Svenson. Her troops fell into place behind her, all chasing the woman in the golden armor and the man with the silver hair. Vera activated her external voice speaker. "Angseth to Aran! Hold your fire! I want him alive!" _She just shot me._ "I repeat! Hold your fire!" _She just SHOT me._

To her surprise, Svenson responded. "Save your breath Captain! That thing can't hear you!"

_Thing?_ Angseth pondered. Against her own better judgment, she repeated the command. This time Aran turned and fired upon her. Angseth ducked and rolled out of the way, narrowly avoiding the shot. Only as an after thought did she realize that by moving she had placed the men behind her in danger. Vera conducted a brief head count and then righted herself and began running. The troops were fine, they knew what to do. Bearn was a little taken off-guard, but he was skilled enough to see it coming.

Angseth's nose began to sting, and almost sneeze-like burn in her sinuses, except she hadn't inhaled anything. This sting, this disgust was instinctual, something primal didn't approve of her close proximity to Aran. Everything in her body and soul told her that this thing was not Aran; this was a farce, a forgery. Angseth had been studying Aran for years. She knew her moves, her run, her motives, and this thing running before her was not Aran.

Angseth extended her right arm. She didn't have much time to practice on Agartha with the power cannon. She hadn't been as drawn to it as she had the Morph Ball. If her hunch was correct, then the power cannon would have a mental trigger much like the Morph Ball. She just had to let it happen. She felt a heat burn in her palm, drawing off the power in her suit. Angseth opened her fingers, and burning in the center of her palm was a mass of blue light. The more she thought about it, the brighter and more powerful it grew. _They really did modify it to suit me!_

It was a ball. A ball of energy. A ball of energy in her palm. Angseth drew her arm back and threw the ball of energy as if she was casting an opening pitch at a Motorball game. The energy flew, and hit Aran square in the back. Then Aran spun around, roaring. Vera froze again. Samus defiantly didn't roar.

The burning in her sinus was suddenly overwhelming. Aran faced her, her armor like glass, refracting the images beyond in its transparent surface. Yet beyond the green visor she didn't see Aran's familiar blue eyes. Instead, twin red round pupil-less orbs fixed on Angseth. The air vent over what would have been her mouth opened sideways exposing a long channel of teeth descending into the things head. It then roared again.

Vera screamed, both from fear and in a rage. She cast another energy orb at the beast as it pounced at her, claws formed from the glass-like fingertips on its left hand. Angseth's first blast missed, and she didn't have time to charge a second before the claws ripped through her armor as if it were paper. Angseth felt her sinuses and body burn before her body flooded with blue light. Her consciousness was pushed back and to the side. The power had taken over. A long laugh ripped from her throat even as the claws tore at her flesh.

* * *

What had Svenson been trying to say? The thought circled Weavels mind until he was forced to file the thought away to investigate at a later date. He remembered choking the albino off mid-sentence, but now he wished that he had allowed the toothpick man to speak. Svenson had lied to him again. There hadn't been six Confederate troopers, there had been eight. Six in the lead, and two lagging behind. They had rounded the corner like a herd of Sheegoth. Weavel had intended to grab Svenson and run with him, but the human was quick, and had disappeared up the connecting hall. Before Weavel had turned to run himself, the trooper bearing the ranking insignia of a ship's security chief had grabbed the nearest troop Commander by the shoulder and sent the poor thing spinning up the hall after Svenson. Weavel could normally care less about what Confederate troops did to their own, but if they were after Svenson for whatever reason, then Weavel had to get to him first.

As soon as he made it around this cocky security chief.

Briar watched as Angseth began her chase after Svenson. He had been sensing her angry glares and frustration ever since they had set foot on the station. Something had gotten under her skin, and hopefully the chase after Svenson would help her burn off some of the stress. Svenson would be an easy capture for her. The quarry running away from Briar however, was in a class all its own. Briar broke away from the bulk of the group and gave chase after one of the more deadly foes in the Confederation, a bounty hunter and Gamma Fleet Officer known as Weavel. The chance to apprehend a criminal of this caliber didn't come up very often. Briar was determined to make the best of it. Vera wasn't the only one who needed to work off some steam. Weavel ran with all the speed and grace that his cybernetic body could muster. The result was a high-stepping gait that could cover large distances in a short amount of time. Even with all his training, Briar was going to have trouble keeping up. Thankfully the hall was almost a straight-shot with no turn offs or other merging tunnels. Nevada opened a com line to his remaining troops.

_"Gastanaga, Franklyn! Head back and signal for the drop ship to trace my signal. I'll try to box him in on the lower commerce levels."_

_"Yes sir!"_

Briar smiled despite himself, then began his chase in earnest.

Weavel checked his maps. If he followed this hall long enough, it would spill out into an unused docking bay. The bay wasn't stable enough to support a ship or life of any kind, and that made it the perfect place to lose the trooper. Weavel kicked his legs up and ran. Surprisingly, the trooper was keeping up fairly well. As he ran up the hall he ventured a quick scan of that flat gray armor and blue face plate. A name and rank came up. _Lieutenant Commander Nevada Briar._

All Weavel needed was the name; he could get more information after this Honorable-Good brat was unconscious. His com system was suddenly overridden by a strong signal. _"Halt! Or I will use deadly force!"_ Weavel suppressed the urge to laugh. The bounty hunter reached the end of the hall and quickly dived to the left, he made sure that this "Briar" saw him. Once on the other side of the doorway, Weavel crouched and sprang, back flipping over the archway and landing on the _right_ side. He heard and prepared to grab the oncoming trooper, but something was wrong.

As Weavels feet touched the ground, the trooper popped out of the doorway, a full half-second before Weavel expected him to. Not good, He couldn't afford to miscalculate. Weavel quickly spun and tried for a grab anyway. The trooper suddenly spun and ducked evasively, rolling away from the entry portal and instinctively began laying down cover fire. Weavel then faced not only the dilemma of the sudden disadvantage, but had little time to block the incoming shots with his Battlehammer. Maybe this brat was going to be worth his attention after all.

Briar rolled and rested on the balls of his feet, arm cannon still fixed on Weavel. He didn't have much time to peruse Weavels file, but given his armament and expert use of the Battlehammer, the Pirate was built for close combat. Also given his ability to run, Briar surmised that he probably didn't have much in the way of long range tactics. Good, Briar could just keep his distance and pick gradually at him with his cannon.

In the space of one breath, both combatants felt they had sized the other up accurately. If Angseth had been there, she would have quickly seen the futility of their following efforts. The docking bay was old. Unused by most except as a place to store the odd piece of cargo. Because of its misuse, many of the walls and floors had become corroded and weak. If gravity were any higher in this place, it would cause the entire chamber to collapse in on itself. Only minimal shielding had been installed to keep most of the junk from flying out into space.

Briar once again opened the com line. _"You're under arrest, please come along peacefully for questioning."_

Weavel held his Battlehammer at the ready. _"You must be new at this."_ The bounty hunter retaliated. He raised his weapon, at the moment not intending to attack Briar, but only to find an alternate way out of the docking bay. Svenson was getting away, and although Weavel felt confident that he could easily locate the twerp again, he didn't want to go into the belly of a Confederation vessel to do so. Briar reacted to the Pirates movements by seeking cover behind a large piece of corroded machinery.

Weavel took this opportunity to turn and run, his Battlehammer blocking Briar's incoming shots as he scanned the bay. "_Why Is it everyone I encounter in the Confederation seems to have lost their minds?!"_ This comment lured Briar out of hiding.

_If I get too close, that Battlehammer of his will take off a limb, and I'd be shopping for cybernetics next to Vera._ Briar scanned the terrain, then risked a ricochet pulse shot. His hunch paid of as the shot nailed Weavel in the leg, knocking the cyborg off-balance. To Briar's surprise, Weavel expertly rolled with the fall and fired an immediate, inverted retaliatory shot. A good one. Weavels pulse beam hit Briar mid-bicep, causing his entire arm to go numb. Briar wasn't going to let that stop him however. He kept running even as Weavel gained his feet. Briar braced his numb arm before him with the intention of using it to tackle Weavel to the ground.

As Weavel steadied himself, he paused just long enough to judge Briar's angle of impact and intention. Weavel then swiveled his upper torso, rolling with the blow, simultaneously hooking Briar's ankle with his own. With another smooth turn, he sent the Confederate trooper to the ground, skidding along his blue faceplate for five feet.

Briar recovered instantly. It wasn't the first time he had hit the dirt in that fashion, yet he still felt foolish for falling for the trick. Weavel had used the momentary distraction to attempt another get away. Briar hesitated this time and took the opportunity to gather his wits again, steadied his wounded gun-arm, and fired. He grinned with satisfaction as a shower of sparks exploded from Weavels right arm, making his Battlehammer descend for a moment. A hit like that would defiantly cause a cyborg to lose a degree of speed and strength. Briar began to pursue holding his arm cannon at the ready again. _"I told you to STOP."_

Weavel didn't stop, but did pause to examine the damage to his arm. Briar fired again, this time aiming for the legs. His shots missed, but they had the unintended effect of sending Weavel running up another hall. Briar fired again, having the luck of hitting an ankle this time and managed to slow the Pirate. As Weavel stumbled toward the entrance, Briar leapt aggressively, his left leg extending for a flying kick. Weavel quickly blocked with his left arm, but the force of Briar's kick slammed his own wrist back into his faceplate, causing him to stumble ungracefully. Weavel cursed this off and greatly unexpected turn of events. Briar landed from an aerial somersault, and for a moment they paused, each waiting for the other to make the first move.

_"You're coming with me."_ Briar breathed.

_"You'll have to haul me out in pieces."_ Weavel countered.

_"That can be arranged."_ Briar suddenly pounced. Weavel had anticipated this maneuver long in advance and planned a suitable counter. Using Briar's momentum, he grabbed the trooper by the collar and spun, sending him crashing into and completely through the corroded walls into an adjacent cargo bay. Weavel released the collar and Briar landed hard, tumbling along the floor, and finally came to rest after an abrupt impact with a large storage crate.

Weavel slowly climbed through the hole made by the Marine's body, and studied the room. He found there were more crates, boxes, and general station fodder present. _This guy isn't going to yield until I put a serious hurt on him… which I will do gladly by this point having lost track of Svenson._

Weavel moved slowly, advancing on the fallen soldier, while looking for something that could be used as a weapon. His scanners rested on the notably massive, corroded, burnt out engine of some ship long since dismantled. That would hurt nicely.

Briar pulled himself to his feet once more, his green slitted eyes burning beyond his blue visor, and trying to shake off the fact that he was just thrown through a wall. As he turned to fix his gaze on the bounty hunter, his faceplate reflected the slowly rotating and airborne turbine engine on a collision course with his body. Briar hardly even had a moment to brace himself, thus the impact was sudden and severe. His feet left the ground as nearly a hundred tons of metal slammed into his body, sending him into and through a wall of cargo crates. More crates rumbled down thunderously from their perches, burying him completely.

Weavel turned to leave, mumbling over the com line. _"Now maybe you'll stay down."_

Briar didn't hear Weavels comment, even though the little speaker next to his ear within the helmet should have made it clear. No, now Briar was getting _angry._ In all of his life, in all of his training, no one had ever sent him into and through a pile of crates. In all of the years of sitting next to Angseth on the bridge, in all the years of watching his fellow Marines get tossed around and killed like so much cannon fodder, he had made a promise. Briar had promised that he would never let anyone under his command die like insects. And he had promised himself that a _Pirate_ would never get the better of him. Vera had taught him how to use his energy wisely. She used her anger and frustration to fuel her, to push her that extra bit farther to win the battle. Briar had a different approach.

Briar used his _pride._

Weavel began to pick his way through the rubble in the room. Tossing that Marine around had made quite a mess, and his cybernetic body was starting to show some of the strain. He had only just begun scanning Rovien's data banks and security holos for Svensons' whereabouts when he heard the most subtle of knocks behind him. Normally he would have written it off as junk settling in a large room, but he still hadn't confirmed a kill on the trooper behind him. All of Weavels attacks before had been to immobilize the Marine, not kill him.

The bounty hunter peeked over his shoulder at the pile of rubble behind him. Several crates suddenly jumped from the pile with a bang, and rolled a short distance. In the middle of a pile of splinters stood Security Officer, Lieutenant Commander Nevada Briar. In his right hand he held a simple axe, a hatchet really. It took Weavel a moment to scan and register the weapon. The handle seemed to be made of some kind of braided polymer, interwoven with a tribal design, a strap looped around his wrist so that the weapon would never be far. The axe head was a simple crescent shape, almost resembling a sickle, and possessed a progressive laser edge. From the way Briar held it, to his casual grip on the shaft, Weavel could tell that this was _his_ weapon. And nothing short of death would pry it away from him.

Briar let go of the axe, and allowed it to hang from his wrist. He casually reached to the side and pulled up another large crate. Weavel felt his curiosity take the fore as the Marine lifted it with remarkable ease. _"Now."_ The Security Chief said calmly_. "Now I'm serious."_ With a swift fling the crate suddenly left his hand, and Weavel stood dumbfounded, trying not to process the thought of _how_ the smaller creature threw the crate so quickly. Instead Weavel concentrated his efforts in dodging, arcing into a partial, hastened limbo to avoid the flying mass of metal and plastic. Even as Weavel twisted, Briar was already on the move. The Pirate only had a moment to register the blur of light and mass that was his pursuer, yet he advanced with the hope of scoring a halting, defensive blow. The lack of any vibration at the end of swing told Weavel that he had not made any contact, and now found himself in a position that left him completely open.

_"You have the right to remain silent."_ Briar stepped in close, getting inside the arc of Weavels swing. He pulled his axe through the air powerfully, bringing it across Weavels chest, and a satisfying shower of sparks flew from the Pirates armor. _"You have the right to an attorney, if you do not have an attorney, one will be provided to you._" Briar gave a simple turn of his wrist, and carved the blade of the axe back across Weavels mid section. _"As a Cybrog, you have the right to a mechanic and medical care,"_ More sparks flashed out in a bright spray, and this time with accompanying fluids. Weavel fought to think past all the warnings flying by on his HUD. Two critical hits. He knew that he had to escape; he knew that he had somehow push this cat away from him. Weavel held his left arm before his chest protectively. If worse came to worst he could lose his waist, but his chest and core functions he had to protect at all costs. With another smooth and rapid movement, Briar brought the axe back around, and slammed the butt against the wound he had just created. _"You have the right to habitat. A meeting place of suitable native climate and atmosphere will be provided!"_

Stunned, Weavel stumbled backward again, careening toward a freight elevator. Briar followed closely, still staying inside of Weavels attack radius. His hits were still just as strong, but not as well placed. Weavel suddenly ducked and lunged for the elevator, simultaneously tucking the Battlehammer in tightly and spiraling, landing a glancing blow before Briar was able to notice and deflect the full impact of his hit. With this fleeting opportunity, Weavel spun into the freight elevator to escape, then felt his spirits plummet as Briar suddenly skidded in after him.

Once again the two of them circled the other, assessing new tactics and damage reports while the rusting service elevator descended. Briars armor and face plate had been dented and deeply gouged in areas. His shin-guards, shoulder plates, and right arm bore deep fracture marks, depicting the many shattered layers of plasteel. Weavel held his left arm across his chest protectively, guarding the sparking circuitry and fragile components inside. His right leg wasn't responding as well anymore, and his Battlehammer was even beginning to show some signs of wear.

Briar began speaking again. _"You will receive fair and considerate care under the Confederate Civil Code 689QKB__-omega-delta __rights act of 3572g.s.!"_

_"I want you to shut up."_ Weavel stepped forward as the elevator came to a stop, and connected a quick, diagonal chop to Briar's neck. Briar stumbled backward as the doors opened onto a now non-existent floor. The elevator opened into the empty space several hundred feet above the market place. As Weavel readied a final strike, Briar reached out with his axe, and hooked Weavels collar, pulling him over the edge with him. Nevada yanked the Pirate closer and simultaneously landed a solid gut punch as they began their hurtling fall. Briar then tumbled backwards in the air while slinging Weavel over his head to his underside and fell the last fifty feet with both boots planted firmly on the bounty hunters chest. The small shacks and buildings below drew closer. Weavels lower back slammed into the frail roof of the first structure; a two story shack. Briar remained planted on Weavels chest as hunks of foundation and scrap metal flew up all around them, shredding their armor in the crash and causing more damage. Dust and debris visible for a good distance from the shack rose several stories into the air as they hit the ground floor.

Briar shakily gained his feet and adopted a steady hunch, his axe still hooked on Weavels shoulder plate. _"I only need…to bring your brain in." _The soldier breathed.

Weavel neatly smacked the axe out of Briars grip, then quickly rolled to a stand. For a brief moment Weavel wondered exactly how many cybernetic skulls that axe of his might have split open before now. _"I must admit, you are quite tenacious."_ He braced his left arm before him and charged Briar with all he had left. Briar may have been strong, but he was also light, and Weavel had the added advantage in that he recovered more quickly from hard trauma. Combining the power in his legs and left arm, he slammed into Briar, sending him flying through the shop and all of its accoutrements, and out the plate-glass window in the front. Once his body passed through the glass, Briar spilled out into the street, skidding into a calculated crouch to both avoid the traffic, and keep his focus on the cybrog in the shop.

The Pirate watched with curiosity and some humor as the felanthrope took a quadropedal stance, began charging and eventually jumped back through the broken window. Briar did not merely lunge at Weavel this time; he _pounced_. Weavel set up skillfully for the inevitable hit, then rolled backward with the impact, and braced his good leg to use Briar's momentum to send him through the brick and plaster wall behind him. Briar smashed straight through the weakened wall and into the alleyway with enough force to hit the wall upside-down on the other side without touching the ground. With unplanned timing, Weavel curled his body up, stood fully in yet another clean wall hole he had just made with the stampeding soldier and casually stepped out. In righteous indignation, the buildings battered innards finally collapsed at Weavels heels with a cacophonous roar, leaving only a single perforated wall.

Briar rolled and sat up in a pile of discarded crates and scrap metal, still recovering from passing through the wall. That was a good score so far, three walls and one roof. Weavel advanced on him, extending his Battlehammer_. "I can't believe that you put up such a fight."_ He struck in an upward backhand, placing a gash equivalent to his own across Briar's chest. The force of the strike sent Briar flying along the alley wall through more crates and containers filled with everything one could imagine in a station full of underworld rejects, out to the sidewalk of another busy street. Weavel slowly advanced on the staggering Briar again. _"I'm going to remember you."_ He snapped a straight kick at Briar, who managed to extend his palm and block the hit even as he shakily rose to his stance. Weavel retaliated by giving Briar a taunting overhead pop in the helmet, and spinning him around a few degrees so that the Marine faced another direction.

But something was wrong.

Weavel should have seen it in the Marine's eyes, or the way that Briar so easily allowed himself to be manipulated. Nevada Briar, calmly used the momentum from the twist Weavel had given his shoulders. He spun quickly to face away from Weavel, dropped his upper torso forward, and raised his right leg, delivering a blurring, rising back-kick directly up into the Pirate's jaw. The combination of the angle, and the impact of Briar's cybernetic boot, caused a minor crack to stretch across the bottom of Weavels visor and faceplate. When Weavels body was became airborne, Briar spun like a top to face the Pirate before continuing his pursuit. He sprang into the air, and followed up his back kick with a spinning side-kick into the cyborgs damaged chest plate. Weavels body became limp in the air as Briar's hit caused his internal systems to momentarily flicker to an alternate power source. Briar burned with more fighting spirit than ever before. All the anger, frustration, and restraint he had been suffering from in the past few months came to a head in one final aerial assault. As Weavels body reached the apex of its ascent, Briar delivered an axe-kick square in the middle of Weavels faceplate. The first tiny crack spider-webbed into a network of white hair-like fractures across his yellow visor. Weavels body rocketed to the ground and slammed down on to the street, fluids and chunks of internal components rained around him and his legs snapped free of his upper torso with the impact, rolling some distance away.

Briar landed shortly after and was hardly faring any better. The last attack had taken everything from him. His power suit and armor had suffered a harsh beating, and his own life support systems were failing. He lifted his axe, this time defensively. _"Well met Weavel."_

_"You had better get back to your ship before these scavengers close in on the fresh meat." _ Weavel gestured to the growing crowd around them. _"I'm sure that troop commander you sent after my quarry has been killed."_

Briar ventured a smirk, visible even through the cracks in his own visor. _"I wouldn't bet on it. Captain Angseth is more than capable of taking care of herself."_

With that comment, Weavel froze, all of his internal alarms ignored. Angseth? Here? He ventured a question. _"Captain…Angseth? Did you say Angseth?"_

_"Yes. I can tell by your reaction that you know that name. I want to know from where."_

Weavel suddenly spun onto his hands, reconfigured his limbs and began running in his alt form, leaving his legs and readied turret cannon behind him. Halfturret was a desperation move, but at least he could escape with his life.

Briar didn't pursue. He didn't even so much as send his troops after Weavel. _Let the crowd finish him off._ Briar thought bitterly.

_"Sir, are you alright? Your armor has sustained heavy damage,"_ Gastanaga spoke over the com line.

Briar felt his legs grow weak as Weavel vanished into the crowd. _"Has Angseth captured Svenson."_

_"Sir, we've lost contact with her."_

If there had been any adrenaline left in his body, Briar would have started running after Weavel, but at that moment his entire body gave out, and he fell into a pile of plasteel and sweat.

_"Lieutenant?"_ Gastanaga knelt. _"Sir?" _ The rest of the crew gathered loosely around their Lieutenant Commander when they arrived, regarding his beaten form with a pained and disbelieving gaze.

Briar struggled against his gag reflex. It had been a long time since he had been in a fight this intense. He bitterly hoped that Weavel was hurt just as badly. Franklyn helped Gastanaga pick up their commander. _"He's going into shock."_ Franklyn spoke. _"Lets get him to the ship."_

As both Briar and Weavel went their separate ways, the enemies shared the same thought. _Find Angseth before he does._

* * *

Blue light, bright red hues and tones. Angseth raised her hands to defend against this thing on her chest. Her nostrils stung, every last inch of her screamed at the insult of this abomination. She felt disgusted, tainted. This thing was not Aran. It had Aran's form, but that was the only similarity they shared. This repulsive, polluted, freak of science needed to die. It was an insult to her species, of all life that she had seen thriving in the cosmos. She could feel its stench crawl down her throat and imbed in her sinuses.

Vera struggled against the claws ripping through her armor. But with this light, this power, she wasn't as helpless as she first thought. With a cry she used her left hand to push the creature off her body, then used that small amount of leverage to kick out. Cracks formed on the glass-like surface. Angseth kicked again, and stood up. The heat of her power cannon was a comforting warmth in her right palm. She folded the fingers of her hand together, and the orb of blue light in her palm became a blade-like vapor around her fingers. The creature lifted its right arm, a pulse of energy ready to fire from the green glass cannon. Angseth screamed, her voice inhuman and primitive, and rammed her entire arm, fingers, forearm, elbow and bicep through the glass armor and into its chest. She felt her fingers pierce its heart.

The creature shrieked, it's voice loud enough to vibrate Angseth's bones within her suit. From the place where Angseth had driven her arm into the chest, blue cracks began to spread rapidly. The cracks continued to spread, and the creature continued to scream as it's body became more opaque and started looking more like smoky quartz, eventually turning black. Vera watched in horror as the red orbs contained in its head extinguished, and the body slipped off her arm, becoming ash as it tumbled to the ground. No longer black, but now gray and charred. After only a moment, where there had once been a creature, now there was only a pile of dust.

Svenson had stopped running. Instead he stood staring at Angseth with terror in his wide eyes. Angseth pulled her gaze away from the pile of ash on the ground and toward Svenson. She lifted her right hand and stared at it with revulsion.

"Oh now you've gone and pissed them off!" Svenson cried out.

_Pissed who off?_ Angseth thought numbly. _What just happened?_

Svenson didn't stick around to explain. Instead he turned and began running even more frantically through the crowds. Angseth pulled her attention from her hand and again at the filth at her feet. It had looked like Aran, it had looked like her until it screamed. From deep within her soul, she felt no remorse for killing it, no regret in erasing its existence.

_"Captain! Svenson is getting away!"_

Oh yes, her prey. Would he explode into dust too if she touched him? Once again she fought to gain her focus, and began running after Svenson. The platinum haired man had a good head start on her. This time as she ran, crowds and people stumbled to get out of her path. The sudden burst of speed felt familiar. The sudden energy and, most importantly, the blue light bathing her vision, kept her calm and aggressive. Svensons hair resembled a bright pom-pom bouncing away from her. Silver became white, a bright sun. Nothing else mattered save for her objective. Focus. Focus was the key. Focus like she had on Tallon IV during the battle with the Sheegoth.

Angseth gained ground on Svenson easily enough. She came close enough to grab him when another smell invaded her senses.

The smell didn't just assault her, it pulled her kicking and screaming into another realm of disgust. It felt like someone had put pepper-spray in her helmet. So much disgust and hate filled her, so much that her face twisted into a grimace. She turned her attention from Svenson, and sought out the source.

Vera slowed just enough to make out a flicker of gold from the shadows, and then a giant spherical shoulder slammed into her side. Angseth's feet left the ground and she hit a wall. The corroded old metal gave way, and she passed right through it. With another irate primitive roar, the Marine clawed and fought her way back through the gap in the wall. Another one of those creatures was in the hall, chasing Svenson. This was infuriating, it had gone beyond insult. That little shoulder-check was a declaration of war.

Angseth didn't just run up the hall after Svenson and the thing, her feet left the ground and she _flew_. Subconsciously she was aware of the hall around her, the energy in her suit responding to the cables and wires embedded in the walls, and the unconscious way the alternating current held her aloft. As she drew closer to the thing, the blue blade formed around her hand once more, and she struck, diving forward and sending the blade through the red glass-like head. She twisted her arm downward, cleaning cutting the creature in half; it's body turning to ash as it fell. She ran through the beast even before it could fully divide and hit the ground. The burn in her nose had faded. There were no more present for the moment.

Svenson suddenly skidded to a halt. The tunnel ended just five yards ahead, and the air was thinner here. He had finally run out of room to run. The albino turned, facing Angseth and held a hand out as if to keep her at bay. "Stay back! I want no part of this!" Bastard didn't even seem out of breath. Angseth on the other hand was afraid that her last little attack had taken up most of her reserve energy.

_"Svenson, you're already in up to your eyebrows."_ She struggled to keep her voice confident and stern even though she felt anything but.

Svenson paused, his head turning to the side, almost as bird-like. "Captain Angseth? Is that you in there?"

_"Yes, its me. And you are under arrest."_

"Angseth!" A smile spread over his pale face. "I don't know if I should allow you to arrest me or to keep running!"

_"I can narrow down your choices."_

"Honestly, I thought you were someone else entirely. However, if you arrest me, I get taken back to Confederate space and tried as a criminal! If I run, Weavel and all his little friends'll chase me down! What is in it for me?"

Angseth slowed as she drew closer to Svenson. _"If I arrest you, at least you'll live."_

"Weavel! Weavel tried to kill me!" He exclaimed.

_"And why would Weavel want to do that?"_ Vera said with a smile. The more they talked, the more energy returned to her.

"Because…" Svensons eyes darted around wildly, as if was searching for an excuse. "Because I have information!" He began to nod his head, sure that he could bribe his way to freedom. "Valuable information!" He nodded, and then tried to gain Angseth's trust. "Information about Aran!"

Angseth did pause, wondering if she should let him talk, or just end the chase now. _"Svenson, you're coming with me. And you're not going to complain about it."_

"NO!" he screamed, and then thought better of it. "I mean, I could continue to gather more information on…Aran…if you let me go! I'll keep in touch, I can relay back any findings to you!"

Angseth was about to use a stun charge on Svenson when a voice came over her com line.

_"Bearn to Angseth. We have everyone on the transport, and we're closing in on your current position. Do you have Svenson in custody?"_

Vera smiled. _"Yes."_

Svenson grew nervous again, his eyes wide behind his curtain of hair. "Who are you talking to Angseth? I want you talking only to me!"

Angseth spoke to Svenson, but kept the com line open. _"I'm thinking, that depending on how important this so-called information of yours is, I may or may not take you in."_ There, that seemed to have settled him a little. Angseth then clicked on her com. _"Can you pinpoint my current position?"_

_"Yes, we're right outside the hull, we have both of you on infra-red, and thermal. The hull is very weak, be careful with the force that you use, it could go at any moment. Minimal shielding has been installed, but nothing to save you from getting sucked out. Mainly atmospheric protection. Several unknown life-forms are crawling toward you."_

"Crawling?"

_"That's what it looks like on the scanner."_

Angseth closed that last step just as her sinuses began to burn yet again. Svenson then began to emit a long girlish shriek. Vera turned and stood before Svenson protectively as the wall to her right exploded, and another one of those Aran things spilled out, followed by two others. She gathered another ball of blue light in her palm, and Vera shot. Svenson wisely ducked and screamed as the beast stumbled backward. She calmly opened the com to the transport. _"See if you can dock at the airlock two tiers back."_

_"Can't, its a private residence now."_

_"You must be kidding me."_

_"That hall that the two of you are in ends in empty space, the cap at the end is of minimal protection, if you can find a way past it, we can get the two of you on the ship with the aid of a localized field barrier."_

The Aran-beasts were advancing, more spilled out into the hall from various

points. Angseth needed a plan.

_"Svenson. Stay down."_

"What are you—WAIT! _Angseth! It's dead space out there!_"

His words came a moment too late. Already Angseth had lowered her shoulder and charged, simultaneously firing with her cannon, throwing all her weight and power into this last desperate push. As she passed Svenson, she reached out and grabbed him with her left hand. Her power cannon cleared the blocked hall, and punched through the weakened outer hull. As promised, Bearn had maneuvered the transport to just outside the newly blown gap in the wall. Angseth braced herself, then used her momentum to swing Svenson around, and _threw_ him through the shielded area and into the back of the transport.

She could see Briar stumble to the back of the transport, and hold his hand out to pull Angseth in as well. She paused for a moment, fired once behind her, then made ready to jump.

A golden hand suddenly closed around her ankle, pulling her back into the darkness of the station. She struggled against the sudden gold and red mass that enveloped her. Claws and teeth bit through her armor, spilling blood and latching onto any surface they could find. A whimper escaped her throat as all of her energy left her body in a rush. Her back arched as more teeth closed around her legs and torso. They were feeding from her, pulling all of the energy from her suit or her body. Those transparent red glass-like heads bobbed around her, roaring, hissing at each other, feeding. Yellow glass hands clamped down on her limbs, or batted others away. Fear and calm. She didn't have the energy to move, or even call out. She vaguely felt her body fall to the ground and the creatures, the Metroids, followed her down, tugging at her ankles or fingers trying to get her to twitch and expose some energy they hadn't pulled on yet.

Angseth felt oddly serene, knowing that she had wastefully burned through all that energy before. The bites were a distant pain. If this was how she should die, then so be it.

* * *

Weavel had left the market place as quickly as his hands could carry him. Once the threat of the Marines had gone, his legs eventually caught up to join him. He was afraid for her, yes. He was afraid that something stupid would happen to the Stupid Marine. Nevada Briar had done quite a bit of damage to him. Not the worst he had ever received, but defiantly up in the top five. He had to hurry, had to find Angseth. Weavel reconnected with his legs, then followed the frightened faces and wake of destruction. The air bore intense traces of Phazon. There was no doubt in his mind that Angseth had come through here.

When he ran through the first pile of ash, he paid no notice. Fires were commonplace in Rovien, but he changed his mind when he rounded the last corner and started up a decaying tunnel. He came to a dead stop before another pile of ash that looked disturbingly like a torso. His scanners lit up with incoming unknown entities, and that spurred him further. The bounty hunter knew that there was a troop transport waiting just outside the hull. For once he was hoping the Confederation would interfere.

As Weavel ran, his scanners registered a group of the unknowns at the end of the tunnel, clustered around an object. Fear, anger and disgust overcame him when he saw numerous entities that bore a striking resemblance to Aran feasting on a troop commander. It only took a moment for him to realize that it was the troop commander he had seen earlier, Angseth, pinned to the floor. The Stupid Marine had been right. Someone was mass-producing Aran clones, and apparently they knew that it was necessary to get Angseth out of the way. Even with his body severely damaged and his HUD cracked, the cyborg bum-rushed the cluster of Aran clones, and grabbed Angseth around the waist, pulling her away from the many talons and mouths that fed on her. She had gone limp, her e-tanks and bio-rhythms had all but been depleted. _I need to get out of this tunnel, I'm in no condition to fight!_ He extended his Battlehammer for the umpteenth time that day and began cutting through everything that got in his way. Angseth was heavy, and his blows clumsy.

The clones closed in, angry at having their meal taken from them, and anticipating the next course that Weavel offered. Metroids were deadly enough by themselves, but few victims ever escaped a pack of them, let alone with another body in tow. Weavel held Angseth tightly and began wildly slashing for all he was worth.

After only a few swings, part of the floor and wall gave way into an abandoned elevator shaft. Weavel impacted with a metal beam, separating his grip from Angseth's waist. The woman was practically bleeding Phazon. He reached out and grabbed her again as they continued to fall down the darkened shaft. Any moment now and the gravity would let up, or at least he hoped. Weavel grabbed her ankle, and pulled her closer, then used his pitifully small jet boosters to guide them over to a wall. He embedded his Battlehammer in the wall and used it to slow their fall. The base of the shaft came into view and he withdrew his weapon from the wall.

Weavel pulled Angseth's unconscious body closer, holding tightly to her waist. He impacted the ground first, Angseth's body was spared the brunt of the impact by landing on his. They bounced once and separated. By the second bounce, Weavels faceplate shattered completely scattering yellow topaz chips across the floor. Angseth's body bounced a second and third time, then slid and rolled to a halt.

Weavel lay in the dark for a moment, listening to different pieces of himself shut down. _Angseth…_He began crawling toward her using the last bit of energy his mechanics could muster. _She better not be dead, if she's dead Samus is so fraked._ It took a moment for his scanners to register without the aid of his HUD. Angseth's vitals were still good, weak, but solid. His on the other hand weren't going to be as steady if he didn't shut down soon. _You're not going anywhere, bitch. I've got you now._

His hand closed around her wrist, clamping down tightly. _I've got you now._


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

"Where is she?!"

"Briar, I need you to relax."

"Where is she?!" Briar insisted, sitting up from the gurney. Four hands met his chest and pushed him back down. Two more adjusted straps on his arms, legs and torso, locking him in place and rendering him immobile.

Commander Bearn leaned over Briars face. "Listen to me Lieutenant, you have suffered severe internal injuries, and I'm assuming command of this mission," he clicked another strap in place. "Your attitude isn't helping matters much. Keep your shit together."

Briar hissed once, yet conceded, letting his body relax. No. Bearn was right. He needed to keep his head. It wasn't like him to lose control of his emotions so easily.

Then again, he wasn't accustomed to losing to a cybrog in combat. A pirate cyborg at that.

Nevada rolled his gaze to the right. Already the painkillers were working their numbing magic. The transport rumbled, then began to move. All around him he could hear his troops clicking into their safety restraints, and locking their weapons in place. He could vaguely make out the lines and patterns displayed on navigation holos at the front of the craft. His gurney had been locked into place near the navigation terminal. Amazingly, Angseth and himself were the only casualties. Briar cursed under his breath, Svenson was locked away in the back of the transport wearing more restraining equipment than necessary. The Lieutenant remembered vaguely that the man had slid out of every last lock and cuff the troops had put on him. Their only option then was to restrain him with a cargo net and numerous locks. That was one slippery suspect.

"What do we know of the Captains whereabouts so far?" Bearn asked a marine, somewhere to Briars left.

"Nothing yet. Either her com link has been damaged, or she's in a dead area. The last signal we received from her vitals indicated that she was falling further into the interior," Gastanaga reported.

"Damn. We will need permission to go deeper into the interior. Ain't no way I'm risking this crew."

Briar made a disapproving noise.

"And you know better than that," Bearn huffed. "Set course for the upper levels. Our cover has been blown," several internal chat windows opened up on several HUDs across the transport. Bearn hoped that no one decided to form a volunteer force to find Angseth on their own. He had faith in the Captain, and right now they needed local support to find her.

* * *

Serec's com vibrated once, and immediately his hand flew to his pocket. Sakari sat at his side, listening to the Chairman speak of the latest improvements to the station and subsequent developments. The Chairman was a pleasant human/whatever hybrid. He had dark blue skin, studded with silver pieces of jewelry, and deep yellow eyes with rectangular pupils. He enjoyed laughing out loud, and enjoyed his wine even more. The supplies had already been purchased, and Sakari with their accompanying security awaited the confirmation of delivery. Serec had not been expecting a call on his com link, and now faced the problem of finding a polite way of bowing out of the conversation without seeming to have any ulterior motives. He was horrible at keeping something secret. After a moment he came across an idea.

"Excuse me Captain, Chairman. Uh…where are your facilities?"

The Chairman chuckled, then pointed. "Up that hall to the right. Will you need an escort?"

"No, I think I can find it," Serec vanished up the hall in a move as swift and graceful as Svenson's had been and once he was safely locked inside one of the cleaner restrooms he had ever found on a station, he pulled the com link out of his pocket, then activated the holo-interface on his glasses. "Yo!"

_"We've got some problems,"_ Commander Zaine Bearn spoke, his voice rough and strained.

"What kind of problems?" Serec's own voice dropped in volume. Briar should have been the one to contact him, not Bearn.

_"We have Svenson, but we've lost the Captain."_

"She's dead?"

_"No, fool, she was separated from the group, and we lost track of her."_

"Clarify next time!" Serec countered, whispering harshly.

_"Listen, we're heading up there to ask for local assistance to retrieve her."_

Serec paused. "Could you wait just a few more minutes?"

_"Why?"_

"We haven't received confirmation on our supplies delivery."

_"Shit."_

"It should be any moment now."

_"How's my wife?"_

"She's fine, holding to the Captain's personality just dandy. I'll let her know what's going on," Serec chuckled low. "Damn….just when I thought it couldn't get any worse."

_"Man, I don't wanna hear none o' that shit! I already have Briar thinking some insane shit 'bout goin' in on his own. Don't you start flakin' out on me!"_

Serec calmed. One thing he and the Captain had in common were inappropriate reactions to stressful situations. Angseth would giggle uncontrollably and Serec would smile like an idiot. Depending on how big the smile grew was how bad the situation had gotten. Serec then spoke to Zaine. "I'll give you a page when I've received confirmation of the supply delivery."

_"Better hope it come soon. ETA, four minutes."_

Serec closed the com line before Bearn could add anything else. He left the bathroom, trying to act as if nothing had occurred. As he entered the meeting room, Captain Angseth took one look at Serecs grin, and very slowly rested her forehead on the back of her hand. Serec faltered a moment. He had to remind himself that it was Sakari disguised as the Captain. She really had her body language down to a science.

"How bad?" she whispered.

"Please tell me we've received the confirmation."

"Not yet."

The Chairman didn't seem to notice that Serec had entered the room. He continued to talk loudly. Serec wasn't listening, and at this point, neither was Sakari. She nervously shuffled holo windows around the table. The com on the table chimed, and both Sakari and Serec held their breath, hoping it was the message they were waiting for.

_"Sir,"_

"Yes?" The Chairman answered, suddenly noticing his guests discomfort. "What is it?"

_"There's a…Confederation Marine Commander Bearn here to see you."_

"Tell him to wait."

Zaine Bearn's voice suddenly boomed outside the door. "LIKE HELL I WILL." The door slammed open, and in strode Commander Bearn, along with six other troops. He removed his helmet, pushing through the guards that had been issued to protect the "Captain" and stopped before the meeting table.

Serec's smile grew wide and apologetic.

* * *

The minutes ticked by, each one longer than the last. Commander Bearn stood solemn and stoic. Sakari sat at the table, one hand over her husbands, and the PLASMA unit deactivated. Serec's grin had faded a little, yet all three watched this spectacle with their own brand of fascination. For the past five minutes the Chairman had been laughing, in his depraved, Orbital Circus clown fashion. It had started off as a snicker at first, as Sakari had deactivated the PLASMA, and exposed her deception. It grew to a chuckle as Serec confirmed it. As Bearn explained the circumstances surrounding Angseth's disappearance, the Chairman seemed to choke, then collapsed on the table, laughing uncontrollably and pounding his fist on the surface, scattering holograms, and deactivating others.

The crew of the Mabus waited. They waited for this man to finish his fit. The end came almost seven minutes later with a final gasp from the blue-faced Chairman, and a large glass of wine. With another gasp, he asked, "You caught Theodore Svenson?"

"Yes, he is custody."

"You're welcome to him!" another chuckle, but he was able to keep his laughter at bay for the moment. "I really must congratulate you on your plan. We don't get many Confederation vessels out here, for the reasons you have outlined…and you lost your Captain in the process."

Commander Bearn didn't skip a beat. "We formally request assistance so we may retrieve her."

The Chairman took another sip of wine. "I'll be candid with you, we don't have a centralized Peacekeeping force. There is no one I can lend you. You would need to hire one of our security firms to locate your Captain."

Serec conducted a quick search on the internal network. Bearn awaited Serec's response. Serec instead addressed the Chairman. "What other options are open?"

"Go back in by yourselves, but that would risk agitating some of our citizens who are conducting research on urban combat situations. And then there is the most effective method, and it usually works in a short amount of time."

"And that is?"

"Place a Bounty on her," he took another sip as the room grew quiet. "I'll assist with the paper work if need be,"

"We will need a moment to discuss," Sakari said, leaning back on her husband.

The Chairman chuckled, standing and bringing his empty wine glass with him. For a moment the crew sat silent. Finally Commander Bearn spoke up. "What are our options?"

"We've already spent our entire budget on getting the supplies. We do not have enough funds to hire one of these companies," Serec reported. "I wouldn't trust them to help me find the remote to my holo vids, let alone our Captain. Likewise, we don't have enough to place a convincing enough bounty to bring the Captain back alive. Even then, unless we charge her with something, it would only be a missing person's bounty."

"And we would lose more men if we tried to go in and get her out," Bearn sighed.

Sakari mused for a moment. "Does the bounty have to be money?"

"No. Bounties have often been for other things. More often than not objects that could be swiped for money."

"What do we have on board that we could use as a bounty?" Sakari leaned her head on her hand. Serec glanced over at her, and noted with approval that she did fill a Captain's uniform nicely. She tilted her head, causing one of the many pieces of flair on Angseth's uniform to flicker. This was a pair of wings that she had received after filling her tour of duty as a pilot.

Serec slapped his open palm on the table, startling everyone. "I've got an idea!"

Ten minutes later, the Chairman entered the room again, along with three of his assistants. "Have you decided what you wanted to do?"

"Yes. We wish to place a Bounty on Captain Mervera Diane Angseth," Bearn said with a smile.

"That we can do, and what will the bounty be set at?" The Chairman poured himself another glass of wine.

"The bounty will be one Confederation Valkyrie-class fighter. Fully equipped with Navigation and weaponry."

This time, the crew of the Mabus didn't mind as the Chairman began laughing again.

* * *

Vera awoke suddenly. Almost instinctively she drew in a sharp breath of air, and sat up. Before her eyes opened she knew that all was not well. She had been lying on a floor, by the feel of it, concrete. Her armor had been removed, as had all of her clothing. She sat nude on the cold floor, and felt a heavy weight around her neck. Angseth opened her eyes and saw that she had been placed in the corner of a very large room, much like a cargo bay. A metal collar had been locked around her neck, and connected to a chain that in turn had been bolted to the wall. Two more chains had been cuffed to her wrists and bolted to her collar, allowing for some movement of her arms but not much.

For the moment her body wasn't complaining. More than fearful, she felt insulted. She remembered tossing Svenson into the back of the transport, and losing her strength as the Aran clones sucked away her energy. Vera also vaguely remembered Weavel grabbing her. Everything past that point was a blur and would most likely come back to her later in nightmares. Nowhere did she recall getting stripped down and locked up like a slave in the corner of a cargo bay. She sat up fully, looking around and trying to make herself familiar with her surroundings.

The bay wasn't as large as she had first thought. It had been divided into several sections. One was obviously a storage area of some kind, cybernetic parts hung on hooks while fragile synthetic internal organs were contained in stasis jars. Another area held several small ships. One of which looked familiar but she couldn't quite place. One area seemed to be improvised living quarters, and the last was definitely a surgical lab of some kind. Numerous tools and life support machinery were clustered neatly around a multi-sectional table commonly used for operations. There seemed to be a patient on the table at the moment. Vera tested the chain. It wasn't made of any kind of high-grade alloy, and would break easily enough. Angseth studied the contents of the operational table, then felt her heart sink to the pit of her stomach.

Weavel lay on the table, broken down into many smaller components, his arms and legs had been removed and were hanging in a sling near the "spare parts" room. His torso had been stripped of all protective plating, leaving his synthetic internal organs exposed within their minimal housing.

"Oh no," Vera gasped. She quickly grabbed the chain connecting the collar to the wall, then activated the cannon within her arm. The energy was weak, but it was just enough to form the light, wispy blade at her fingertips again. She cut through the chain, then ran to the table, her sensitive bare feet hitting cold concrete. Her body was weaker than she had estimated, and she stumbled, then caught herself on the table.

She paused, her gaze fixed on Weavel's shattered faceplate and helmet. All the plasteel had been removed, a few small yellow chips lay scattered on the table. Angseth didn't know what she had been expecting. There was no face behind that yellow visor. Instead, she saw an array of lenses and sensors, the visor was only a protective shield. Now that his craniums external casing had been removed, she could see that there was no organic matter contained in his head. His brain, along with all of his central core functions had been contained in his large chest. Whatever had happened, he was suffering, and she felt obligated to help him somehow.

That was the moment she heard feet shuffle behind her. Angseth barely had time to turn around when suddenly a weighty, industrial sized, crescent wrench slammed into her cheek. The shock traveled into her neck and down her spine. Her hands left the table as she stumbled backward, suddenly disoriented and dizzy. The wrench slammed into her ribs and Vera hit the ground.

"Damn you go down hard."

Vera coughed once, and felt teeth fall loose over her tongue. She spit them out along with some blood. A hand suddenly grabbed the collar on her neck, and with surprising strength, managed to pick Angseth up from the floor and drag her toward an open hatch. Vera began to struggle, but she didn't have much of a choice. Her body became airborne, and she landed on the steel grating. It bit and ground into her exposed skin. Slowly she rolled, pushing herself to her hands and knees. She turned to face her attacker, and paused again.

The wielder of the giant wrench, a human woman, stood on the other side of the hatchway. She had a surprisingly gaunt figure for her display of strength, with dirty blond hair that had been twisted and pulled into matted locks. The locks were tied behind her head with what looked like some kind of rubber gasket. Welding goggles held what stray hair she had left at bay atop her head. Her clothes were typical of a fleet mechanic. However in place of rank insignia was another design that Angseth was unfamiliar with. A small patch on the left breast of her jumpsuit had a single name written in Standard.

Sacul.

Angseth jumped to her feet as the woman carelessly slammed the hatch shut. Angseth hit the inside of the door, then began to do the only thing that came to mind: pound on it. The woman ignored her, and then walked casually back to the table. Angseth watched through a pitifully small view window. Sacul sat down, and picked up a power drill, and began using it on Weavel. Vera screamed, stepped back away from the door, then used all the power she could muster in her cybernetic arm to attempt to break it open.

The first impact put a decent sized dent in the hatch. The second made the woman stand from her seat and walk back over. Vera readied for a third hit, and Sacul made a simple gesture. She raised her hand, and held it inches away from a large red button. Angseth froze, and for the first time since waking up not even five minutes ago, paused to weigh in the facts.

The button Sacul threatened to push was the release switch for an airlock. An airlock that Angseth currently stood in, bare naked without one stitch of protection against the outer vacuum of space. It hadn't been purged of air yet, and was just this side of bearable. Vera slowly lowered her arm. She was had. Sacul kept her hard gaze fixed on Angseth. Her eyes were bright green with dark blue slits down the middle. Her stance was confident and secure. Slowly Sacul lowered her hand once she was sure that an understanding had been reached. One long finger depressed a com switch.

_"What's your name?"_ her voice was harsh, and her accent drew the vowels out longer than they should have been.

Angseth sighed deeply. "Captain Mervera Diane Angseth."

_"It's a good thing they have a bounty on your head, or else I would have sold you for spare parts. Healthy kidneys are hard to find here."_

"A bounty?"

_"Yeah. Seems that your crew is desperate to get you back. But that's not what I want to know from you,"_ she leaned in. _"What do you want with Weavel?"_

"Nothing."

_"They why did I find you with him?"_

"He rescued me."

Sacul laughed. Her laugh had a hard edge to it. _"I find that hard to believe."_

"What are you doing to him?"

_"I'm his mechanic. I'm fixing whatever the hell it is you did to him. Tell you what, if I get him to wake up, I'll ask him about you then. He can be the one to decide your fate. Till then, I'd behave if I were you. This airlocks a little twitchy,"_ with that last comment she left, going back to Weavel at the table.

Angseth watched her for a moment until the adrenaline left her system. The side of her face was beginning to swell, and her cracked ribs were starting to complain. She slowly lowered herself to the floor, tucking her knees in close. The airlock was cold, but not as bad as it could be. Her back touched the metal wall. The ache began in her feet, a soreness that wouldn't let up. It traveled to her ankles, her calves and thighs, then eventually her back, shoulders, neck and finally her head. Angseth whimpered. She reached for her earrings to comfort her, and wasn't surprised at all to find them, along with her fang necklace, missing.

* * *

"Status,"

_Very…disoriented._

Sacul adjusted a few more wires, then looked to her holo screens for confirmation. "And now?"

_Clearer._

The mechanic slowly drew Weavel's central core closer, and then referred back to her data on the screen. Weavel spoke to her through text on the holo screen to her left.

_What's the extent of the damage?_

Sacul lit up a cigarette and leaned back in her chair. "Extensive. Complete overhaul buddy. You haven't been this screwed up since Trace used you as a street sweeper."

_Damn…and the Marine?_

Sacul chuckled, one that was kinder than the laugh she had given Angseth earlier. "What do you want with a Marine? She's worth a bunch of spare parts to me, and I am going to need the extra pieces to get you back into shape."

_Sacul, she and I are working together._

"No shit," Sacul blew an impressive burst of smoke from her nostrils. "Didn't think Bull Dykes were your type. She's in the airlock."

_The airlock? Get her out._

"I don't trust her. Took two hits from the Peacemaker to subdue her. Usually one will almost kill a human."

_I can cover any damages she causes._

"Weavel, you know I love you man, but I doubt you can even cover the cost of your own repairs."

_Why do you always wait to discuss price when I'm indisposed?_

"Because it nicely tips the scale in my favor when I have you by the solenoids," Sacul glanced over her shoulder. "She has been quiet lately." She stood, stretching. "You're lucky that I like you. But the second she gets violent, she goes right back into the airlock," Sacul sauntered over to the airlock, and pulled the hatch open.

The Marine was still inside, as she should be, curled up in the fetal position in the center of the floor, her back to the door. Sacul gave her the once-over, wondering if the woman even had an ounce of body-fat under all that excessive muscle. Dark skin, thick muscles and bones, had to be from a dense world. No human woman would willingly acquire that much mass. Angseth lay very still, but it wasn't the silence that caused Sacul to step backward in surprise. Along the length of her spine, and branching out along her nervous system, the veins and arteries visible under the surface of her skin had turned black. The Marine didn't move, but Sacul could tell she was still alive, even though her breathing was shallow. Sacul slowly pulled her firearm, and stepped inside, gingerly reaching out to touch Angseth's shoulder. Her skin was cold, but the muscles underneath were firm…a little firmer than what a human should be.

"What are you?" Sacul whispered. She leaned forward again, this time seeking out the Marines face. Angseth's eyes were open, her lips blue and unnatural seeming against her dark skin. "Hey, the door is open. Are you okay?" Those brown eyes slowly rolled toward Sacul.

"My earrings." Her voice was airy, harsh and strained.

"What?".

Angseth drew in a sharp breath, then hissed through clenched teeth. "My earrings…give them back."

Sacul stood, stepping backward out of the door, then shut and locked the hatch again. She quickly spoke to Weavel. "What's with her. She won't move, just wants her earrings."

_You took her earrings?_

"Glowing stones are worth a lot."

_Give her back everything Sacul! I know your tactics, you probably stripped her down naked and chained her to the wall!_

"Well, yeah, standard practice!" Sacul tried to defend herself.

_Give it all back to her. She needs those earrings!_

"What's so damn important about the earrings?"

_She's an addict. She's addicted to the Phazon in those earrings._

Sacul turned from the holo screen, and looked at the mass of cables and organics that was Weavel's current body. "A Phazon addict? Then those earrings…" she quickly grabbed a small metal box from a shelf and opened it. The earrings lay inside, their serene blue hue never changing. She picked one up and ran a scanner over it. "Not even a traceable energy signature," Sacul walked back over to the table and set them down, then brought over a holo screen designed to act as a microscope.

_What are you doing?_

"If these things are Phazon, then they would have set off my radiation alarms by now," she mumbled. Sacul used a pair of tweezers to pick up the earrings and study them. It took her only a moment to discover why they hadn't tripped any alarms. The actual Phazon in the earrings was no more than a few sand-like grains in either earring. The rest was composed of a lead-crystal resin shell, cut in a way to maximize the inherent luminescent qualities of the Phazon. At first glance it seemed as if the entire stone was glowing, but now she knew better. "She can't possibly get a high off these small grains."

_Just give them to her. If nothing else they should psychologically pacify her._

"There's something weird about that dyke," Sacul held the earrings in one hand, then walked back over to Angseth in the airlock. The Marine hadn't moved an inch. Sacul unfolded her fingers and placed the earrings in Angseth's palm. Instantly the earrings grew brighter, and the Marine's fingers closed around them, making a fist. Sacul quickly left the airlock, and left the hatch partially open.

Angseth felt the floor vibrate subtly as Sacul left. She hadn't told her fingers to close so tightly around the earrings, they did that on their own. As if some deeper instinct knew something she didn't. Her body had been aching, a sharp pain spreading along her back. She began to wonder if she had sustained serious internal injury while she had been unconscious. But the pain faded as soon as her earrings touched her palm. Her fingers had locked down tightly and would not loosen even if her life depended on it. The relief was instantaneous. A surge of blue light shot through her right arm as if it were some kind of direct conduit into her soul. As soon as the light hit the flesh it began to spread, seeping though her skin like blood through clothing. The light hit her spine and Angseth gasped, a cry escaping her lips, along with a grin. This was good. This was better than getting drunk, better than any drug she had ever heard of, even better than sex. The light crept into every last fiber of her being, tickling every nerve and igniting her senses. She began to giggle, then immediately slapped her left hand over her mouth. She was aware of the cold, the steel, the slight shift in air along her naked backside coming from the open hatch. The pleasure and relief that moved along her spine and into her arms and legs, pushing further into her bones, and finally into her mind. Vera waited, panting as her vision began to blue-over again, and relaxed as the blue faded all too quickly. The hyper-sensitivity faded with it. For a moment she lay on the grated steel, feeling cheated, teased, then cast aside.

Slowly she sat up, her muscles lose and fluid, the pain in her ribs gone, and her face healed. She opened her palm and looked down at the earrings. Still glowing faintly, their light not as bright as they had once been. Along the meat of her palm, small half-moon indentations had been made from her nails digging into the artificial flesh. For the first time she could feel the weight of her cybernetic arm and leg as separate from her own. They were _apart_ from her. Yet they still used up the blue life force that she had come to rely on of late. The damn leaches! How dare they take what was hers and use it for their own selfish means?

At that point Vera had to look away from her hand, and pause. That definitely had not been a very sane thought. These limbs were hers. They were not leaches, they were tools. Tools she needed in order to live. Without thinking about it, she looked upward to see if there had been a little node in the ceiling emitting pink light. If she thought about it even a little, she could remember sitting in that room, in the nest…Angseth rested her left hand over her heart. She needed to focus on the here and now. Maybe the Aran clones had done something to her. She needed to focus. _Focus._

As she stood, she glanced back down at the earrings in her palm. And a very scary thought overcame her. The little bit of blue light in her hand was no longer _enough_ to make her feel normal. She wanted more.

And if she focused hard enough on that, she would find more.

* * *

_Did you give them to her?_

"Yeah," Sacul sat back down at the table, and began to sift through Weavel's pieces, trying to salvage what she could and make an inventory of what needed to be either bought or re-constructed. "Who is she Weavel?"

_An ally to my cause. I have reason to believe that Aran wanted us to meet._

"You can't know what that woman is thinking half the time. I've had more interesting conversations with a spent shell casing."

_Angseth is not to be underestimated. She is the sole survivor of the Aether incident. That is enough to earn my respect. She is also the only surviving member of the Isrec mining colony. I'm sure that I've told you that tale already._

"No shit?" Sacul said again, lighting up another cigarette. "That would explain her addiction, but Confederation is still Confederation."

_She saved my life on TallonIV. I cannot make you trust her, but I can confidently say that I trust her._

"You? You don't trust anyone. Took me almost a year to get into your main components. What the hell could a Confederation Dyke do to earn your so-called trust?" she exhaled, covering the tools on her workbench in smoke. "Confederation never did anything for me. Even after I asked for refuge."

_She listened. She saw me as another sentient being instead of a Pirate. She could have let me die on TallonIV, but she risked her own life to save mine. Even after I threatened to kill her._

"I trust people about as far as their wallets take me."

_You will like her. She asks too many questions, but is fair._

"Shut up for a moment will you. I can't read what you're saying and try to get your network functions back up and running. Besides, there must some kind of hormonal imbalance, it's not like you to get all mushy and sentimental like this. I promise, I won't hurt her, and I will make my own judgment as to how trustworthy she is. I'm not going to get my hopes up. There is only one human I trust, and her name is Samus."

Ten minutes after Sacul began to work, she heard the hatch to the airlock swing open. Angseth stepped out slowly, clutching her earrings in her hand. Sacul looked up from the mass of wire, and noted with some surprise that the bruise she had caused with the wrench earlier had faded away completely. The Marine walked out confidently, refreshed, and ready to put a hurting on whoever got in her way. Sacul casually drew off her cigarette and pointed. "Your clothing is in the footlocker over there. Help yourself to whatever else you need as well."

Angseth scrutinized her, angry. "Can I have the key to take this collar off please?"

Sacul smiled as she exhaled. "Like you need a key, just break the damn thing like you broke the chain. It shouldn't be a problem for a dense-worlder like you."

Vera didn't ask twice. She set her earrings aside, then grabbed the collar from either side, and pulled. The collar snapped, and Angseth stared at the pieces in her hand. "This shouldn't be. I've never been this strong…" she snapped the cuffs and those fell to the floor. Still pondering, she walked over to the trunk Sacul had indicated, and popped the locks. Inside were many pieces of spare clothing, some had names, some had blood. Angseth found her jumpsuit, cleaner and untouched by grime compared to the others inside. She pulled her clothing on, then started to look for what else in the footlocker might also belong to her. She moved aside a flack jacket, and noticed something odd. A single white feather with black striping lay trapped between two pieces of clothing. Angseth picked it up, studying it. There were many different species on a station, many of them had feathers, but this one was different. Vera quickly tucked it into a small pocket near her name tag. For good measure she picked up a jacket as well. She then stood. It felt comforting to have clothes against her skin. It was cold in here. "Why did you strip me?" she asked, bitterness and anger creeping into her tone.

Sacul snubbed out her cigarette. "Look, I can't trust anyone here, let alone a Marine like you. Finding both you and my client here was one of the weirder moments of my life. A Marine Commander, with an unconscious space pirate. He was beat to shit, and well, you do the math. When I stripped you down, I saw that all of your other clothing had marked you as a _Captain._ Not only that but you have armor of Luminoth make. Thank your lucky stars that I didn't kill you."

"Where is my armor?" now that Vera had her clothing back, she felt a little bolder. "Where is the fang necklace you had taken from me? Give me back my things."

"One request at a time. Your necklace is on the table there, next to my soda. And your armor is undergoing repairs. I have it in a nutrition bath over there. Oh, and the only reason you're getting even half of your shit back is because, miracle of miracles, the _pirate_ vouched for you," Sacul pulled out a drawer on her table, and retrieved a tool Angseth didn't recognize.

"A nutrition bath?" Angseth walked slowly over to the table, and closed her eyes when she saw the state of disrepair Weavel was in. Her desire to have her things returned suddenly seemed so shallow in light of his injuries. "How is he?" she asked softly.

"Like all Confederation Officers, you have more questions for me than answers." Sacul snapped.

"I consider Weavel an ally…and if Briar did this to him…" Angseth didn't want to think that Nevada would be able to do such damage.

_Lieutenant Commander Nevada Briar?_ Weavel asked.

"Yes." Angseth read the text on the screen. "He's my second in command…and my fiance."

The holo suddenly flickered, and Sacul suddenly looked from the screen to the mass of electronic mess on the table, then to Angseth. She pulled up another holo screen and began running a diagnostics. Weavel's vitals came back online. "Okay, don't do that again. He's under enough stress as is, he doesn't need to be put under any more. Keep the topics light and happy if you want him to pull out of this, got it?"

Angseth suppressed a grin. "I'll keep that in mind. You said that you had my armor in a nutrition bath?"

"Yeah, Luminoth armor is organic. Normally when you aren't wearing it, it goes into stasis in an external unit. There it refuels, heals, and makes ready for the next battle."

"Organic?" Angseth had heard of the concept, but had never seen it in action, let alone ever worn one.

"Damn, next time you buy your shit, do the research. Quick lesson. The Luminoth have been masters of biological environments for millennia. They specialize in plant and insect life. Makes sense since they're essentially giant moths. They've learned how to manipulate plant-life on a molecular level to suit their means. So if you want a house, you plant one. Within five years or so, it reaches full maturity, and you can move in. It's the same concept with their armor. Organics have the inherent ability to heal and self-repair. So, you just manipulate the DNA to take on whatever form you wish. Your armor is a lot like that, except more sophisticated. Think of it as a plant turned cyborg. Electronic and computer components are compatible with anything you use in the Confederacy, while the plating and interface system are pure plant. So when I say that I have it sitting in a nutrition bath, I mean just that. The armor was starved, and now I'm feeding it."

Angseth stood still, her eyebrow raised and her face bearing an expression of pure confusion. Organic? A Plant? She was wearing a living life form as armor?

Sacul turned, and laughed. "That's how everyone reacts. But it's true."

Vera fired off a question without even thinking about it. "What about the Varia suit?"

Sacul answered just as quickly, lost in her work on Weavel's components. "Varia is in an entirely different category. It is self-repairing, but it's made entirely of metal and alloys. It too acts like a life form, give the armor enough energy, and it repairs itself. Siairus was a genius."

_Siairus? Ryan had mentioned him…wasn't he her mate?_ Once again Vera paused. How the hell did this mechanic on the far end of space know a name like that? Angseth licked her lips, then ventured a question, prodding just a little to see what kind of information Weavel's mechanic could possibly have. "Who was he?"

Sacul chuffed. "Why would a Confederation monkey have any interest in him?" There was a brief shower of sparks and she cursed, then pulled a section of plating over.

"I've heard the name before," Angseth found a place to sit.

Sacul paused in her work, and studied Angseth carefully. The Marine was honestly concerned about Weavel. How the hell did that happen? She licked her lips, and made the same decision as Weavel had. She placed a small amount of trust in this Captain. "Siairus…Siairus was a brilliant weapons engineer. He helped to design some of the more powerful Chozo artifacts and weapons in the past century. The Varia suit is probably the better-known work of his. It integrated the users bio-rhythms into the very electric current of the armor, allowing the user to move and interface as if they wore nothing at all."

"Have you worked on Varia suits before?" Angseth ventured another prod. Sacul was either pulling her leg, or she really had information that Angseth never had access to.

"Hell no. No need to. They're fully self-repairing. Siairus completely turned the tide of the Chozo civil war."

"How do you know about that?" Angseth remembered the hoops she had to jump through to even learn that there had been a war.

"Shit, you live out on the fringe for long enough and you get to know your neighbors. The Varia suit had enabled the Acopiltaczet to push back the Ltaoclazeuq enough to allow their forces to regroup. It didn't take long for the Ltaoclazeuq to steal and adapt the technology. But Siairus had foreseen that outcome, and was ready to follow it up with his new technology."

"And what was that?"

"Nobody knows. Since both sides had access to the Varia suit, they met on some middle ground and declared a truce. As a symbol of peace, they decided to declare Siairus's new technology as a Relic. And buried it."

"A Relic?"

"A Relic is the ultimate treasure. When the Chozo decide to commemorate an event, they build a temple, and 'bury the hatchet' in a sense. Usually it's some destructive piece of technology that had caused them much hardship. In this case, it was a weapon that would never see battle. Anyway, the Relic is retired in a very ceremonial manner, in the hopes that some other generation or peoples can find a better use for it. It's a great honor to have one of your inventions chosen as a Relic."

"So Siairus was honored for it?"

"He was, but that didn't please him. He committed one of the bigger no-no's and challenged the High Councils authority. He didn't want the weapon to become a Relic. He wanted to see it bury the Ltaoclazeuq once and for all. Instead the Council humiliated him. All of his works became public, and his career the source of much scrutiny. He was banished, and rumor had it that he had traveled to the world where his Relic was buried to try and reclaim it. Then Ridley killed him for it."

Angseth took a moment to digest all of this information. One thing stood out in her mind the most. "How do you know so much about such a secretive people?"

"Maybe you should stop asking questions, Marine." Sacul took a long drag off her cigarette, then attached a few wires to a small speaker. "How's it going Weavel?"

The speaker cackled to life. _"Better. Enjoying the story more than anything else."_

"I'll get your Net capabilities up and running as soon as I can so you'll have something worth doing while I work on you."

"_Good, I have some research that needs to be done. This mission is time sensitive."_

"What do you want me to do?" Angseth asked.

Sacul exhaled and locked her slitted eyes on Angseth. "First, I want you to stay back. I need all the space I can get to work on him. Second of all, stop asking stupid questions. If you break anything, I will not hesitate to chuck your ass back into the airlock. The only reason you're even out here is because Weavel asked for you. So stay back, do nothing, and I'll be done with him as soon as I can."

"I need to talk to Weavel."

"If you cause him to flicker out again, I'll take his tab out of your account."

"Then allow me to contact my crew."

"No. You're worth a fully operational fighter to me. You won't talk to them until I say you can."

Angseth hated to admit it, but Sacul had her pinned. For a moment she pondered the information that Sacul had ever so willingly given her. There was a reason she had so much trouble to access the information on even the Chozo civil war. They didn't want anyone else to know about it. The fact that Sacul knew so much made Angseth wonder exactly what involvement this woman had in it. She watched as the mechanics hands moved swiftly and expertly through small crevices in Weavel's internal shell. She seemed to use only the first three fingers of her hand along with her thumb. Her pinky finger barely moved at all. It sat frozen at the side of her hand like a vestigial accessory.

"See anything interesting?" Sacul snapped, her multi-colored eyes locking on Angseth. There was an expression of frustration and annoyance that seemed familiar for a moment. That expression combined with Sacul's odd, implacable accent as well as her finger movements tripped a small wire in the back of the Marine's mind. Vera made a guess, and decided to act on it.

The Captain reached calmly into her pocket, and pulled out the black and white feather from earlier. "Yours?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Angseth sighed, then began speaking. "You don't pronounce your consonants. Your lips barely close at all when you speak. You only use the first three fingers on each hand, your body language is totally off, and you know more about the Inauhomenlapi than any non-native should. So I want to ask. Are you Ltaoclazeuq, or Acopiltaczet? And I would bet my last credit that after Weavel left Gamma Fleet, Samus Aran was the one to introduce the two of you to each other."

Sacul set down her work, then calmly picked up a weapon of some kind at the end of the table. Quicker than any human, she swung around the length of pipe, aiming for Angseth's head. Angseth didn't move, just assumed her Morph Ball form, easily ducking the blow, then rolling slowly away from Sacul. The mechanic stood, glaring down at the mass of spinning rings, the hand holding the pipe shaking. She suddenly threw it at Angseth, missing by a foot.

"You could never understand!" she screamed. "An ignorant cocky Marine could never understand the shit I had to go through for that beast!" Sacul's head dropped to the side. She reached up and pulled the band from her hair. As she did so, the disguise dropped. Angseth shed her Morph Ball and stood up fully again. Before her stood one of the more magnificent Chozo she had ever seen, and by now she considered herself almost an expert.

Sacul stood just under seven feet tall, still wearing the mechanics overalls. Ruby red scales peeked out from the collar, and around her wrists where the sleeves had been rolled up. Atop her head, she had a small crest of white feathers with black stripes. A black mask of feathers framed her stunning eyes. Her crest as well as most of her feathers had been ruffled in an attempt to make her seem bigger. Angseth took a seat, and waited for Sacul to calm.

"No doubt you have questions," the Chozo took a step back toward the table. "You types always have questions. Aran never asked questions. She didn't care."

"I do have questions, because I do care. Although you have answered many of my questions just by revealing your true identity."

"How do you know those names? How do you know of the Inauhomenlapi?" Sacul sat down again, and began working on Weavel once more.

"I had a brief stay aboard the Ariaia. I met a Chozo there I called Ryan. She…er…he…they, had first made me aware of the civil war, Ryan had a white mask around her eyes, as did everyone else there. So I assume they were Ltaoclazeuq and by the black mask around your eyes, you are Acopiltaczet."

"Once. Not any more."

Angseth set the feather down on the table. "Please. I need more information. I will not mention you, and I won't repeat what you have to say. All I know is that the Chozo are arming and getting ready for one really big fight, and the Confederation is about to get caught in the middle of it."

Sacul pulled another piece closer. "They're arming? Really. Did negotiations fail?"

"I don't know. All I do know is that Aran has gone missing, and they are freaking out."

"Samus has gone MIA?" Sacul laughed. More of a squawking cackle. "Well, Captain. Seems like you are up to your eyeballs in this. The Ltaoclazeuq don't give away their technology freely. They must expect great things of you."

"Both you and Ryan mentioned Siairus."

"I think I know who this Ryan is."

"Ryan said she was his mate."

"I know exactly who this hen is," Sacul sighed, taking a deep breath. "Pass me that box over there. Seems like you can be of some use to me after all. I've never told anyone this before. Let alone a Confederate officer. Siairus was a genius. And I was one of his assistants. When he was stripped of all his titles, he and everyone who had worked with him on his projects were cast out. All of them, except the spy. This Ryan. That Hen had crept into his black heart, stolen him from me, and they were married. After we were banished, it came to light that she was a spy from the other side. Siairus didn't take it so well. But you knew that they loved each other. Always would. Some of us fled here, to Rovien. I've made my way by doing the odd cybernetic work, Weavel has been one of my better customers since Samus introduced us. I'm sorry I couldn't be more help. I've purposely stayed out of the loop."

Angseth listened patiently. "Do the Acopiltaczet speak, or use sign language like he Ltaoclazeuq?"

"Sign language."

"Then why do you and Ryan speak Standard?"

Sacul chuckled. "It's a bit of a long story. In the labs where we worked, one of the former occupants had created a device that would receive an ancient form of communication called 'radio' signals. Siairus liked to leave it on. One day this sound suddenly came from it. It took us a while to determine what it was. Seems as if we had caught on to some wayward signals from a bygone era in Human civilization. It turned out to be music. Doo-wop. We started to learn how to sing it, and in doing that, taught ourselves how to speak Standard. We kept it a secret. It's a bit taboo to use your voice among Chozo society."

Vera stood beside Sacul, watching her fix Weavel's pieces. "Is he asleep?"

"No. He's on the Network. I don't know what he's looking for, but his attention is completely taken from us," Sacul lifted her hands, and wrapped the rubber band around the longer feathers on the back of her head. She returned to her human disguise. "Don't tell anyone what you've seen, if you have any respect for me."

"Won't leave this room."

* * *

"Welcome back to the realm of the living." Sacul muttered with a grin. "Did you find what you were looking for?"

_"Yes,"_ Weavel spoke. Sacul had repaired his main torso, replaced his head, and was currently in the process of getting his extremities attached. After that there would be a simple system of tests, and then he would be free to go. _"Where is Angseth? Did you already claim your bounty?"_

"She's asleep in my bunk. I haven't told her crew yet. That's gonna be part of your payment. Take her and get my bounty," Sacul grabbed a small remote control box, and used it to bring Weavel's legs over in a sling. "When do you plan on telling her that you're the reason her parents are dead?" she expected Weavel to be silent, or deny, or react in any other way than he did.

_"I will tell her when she wakes up. Before I take her back to her crew."_

"You are a cold bastard," Sacul chuffed. "From the way you had a death grip on her wrist when I found the two of you, I assumed she meant something to you."

_ "She does. Without her I have no prayer of getting Aran back,"_ Weavel ran a diagnostic on his new systems as Sacul made a few more adjustments on his Half Turret form. _"I cannot explain her purpose without telling her about Isrec. She will need to forgive me, and overcome her hatred or my race is doomed."_

"You make it sound so easy," she attached his legs. They clicked as they locked into place. "Have you had time to think about this, or are you just going to wing it like you always do?"

_"I don't have answers for you. Trying to heal the rift between the Confederation and the Siafu will be like getting your two factions of Chozo to agree with each other. You think a bounty hunter can do that?"_

"Samus Aran could, and did."

_"Which is why me and the Stupid Marine are going to find her."_ Weavel pulled himself out of the chair.

"Weavel," Sacul stood, stretching. "Did the thought ever cross your mind that maybe she can't do everything by herself? Maybe she pulled the two of you together to solve your own problems? She's only one woman, who's going to die eventually. Someone has to learn to stand on their own two feet when she's gone."

_"I pay you to fix my mechanical problems, not give your opinions."_

Sacul smirked. "You wouldn't get so annoyed if I didn't make a point. Besides, we're in this together whether you like it or not."


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Weavel watched as Angseth received her food from the man behind the counter, shifted her weight on the stool, then pulled the large bowl of noodles over. She looked awkward in her powersuit, sans helmet, as she used those huge power-gloved hands to separate a pair of plastic chopsticks, then hold the small white sticks delicately between her fingers. The bowl was large and made of some kind of earthenware pottery, filled with broth, thick noodles, and some unrecognizable meat. She deliberately dug in with the sticks and pulled up a clump of steaming noodles.

_ "What did you say that was again?"_ Weavel asked.

"Udon. Old Earth food. One of my favorites since childhood," she said after swallowing. "Have you ever had it? Come to think of it, what kind of foods do your kind eat?" Vera tried not to smirk at all the strange glances the pair of them received sitting together.

_"Its hard to say, dietary habits have changed greatly since my people embraced space culture,"_ Weavel turned down the offer of a menu. Why did everyone always insist on offering him things he couldn't use? And on the heels of that, why was it everyone insisted on eating around him?

Angseth dipped into her bowl and came back with another clump of noodles. There seemed to be some kind of vegetation that was part of this dish down toward the bottom. "What do you want with Svenson?" She asked.

_ "To rip out his internal organs and then auction them off alphabetically."_

Vera smiled. "That much I understand. What did he do to you?"

_"That business is between me and him."_

"Why choose now to keep information from me?"

_"If I told you now it would be a conflict of interests on my part. Just hand him over to me and let me have my way with him."_

"Sure thing," Angseth sipped the broth. "AFTER I question him about SR3-88." She chewed her beef with a smile when she noticed Weavel grow tense. "Or am I wasting my time by interrogating him when I should be asking you?"

_"I have nothing to say."_

"Seventy billion Confed credits is a lot of money Weavel. How many years did it take you to get all that? Ten? Twenty?" she sipped her broth again. "How many bounty heads, I'm wondering…"

_"I'm not going to answer any question from you. I am here on a mission, and when I'm done escorting you back to your crew, I'll return to it,"_ Weavel watched as she smugly ate another clump of noodles. Then the realization dawned on him. _"How did you know that I paid him?"_

"Sacul filled me in while you were in stasis-charge. She just said that you had paid him for something; my crew had already done the research and found out the amount. You just filled in the missing pieces," Angseth turned to face him. All new and shiny, his faceplate even more reflective than ever, missing some of the scuffs and scratch marks from earlier encounters. "What mission?"

_"Aran."_

"I thought we had agreed to take that one on together."

_"We had agreed to when I actually FOUND her. I only have a hunch, nothing concrete."_

"Well, I have something concrete, and it came in the form of roughly twenty freaks of science sucking the very essence from my body. Tell me what you know, and we go together. If they are created here, then we need to shut them down. You think Aran may be the source?"

_"Her, or a master copy."_

"I will assist as much as I can. I have my ship and my crew here with me. You don't need to do it alone."

_"Sorry to disappoint, but I'd prefer to go alone. Can you tolerate losing your men?"_

"Don't write off my troops so easily. Most are of dense-world stock, they can take a pounding."

_"If they're anything like your fiance," _ the cyborg mumbled.

"More-so in some cases. Stay with me Weavel. You have nothing to fear from my crew or me. We share a common goal."

_"Is that an invite to join you on the Mabus?"_

"Take it how you wish."

Weavel grew silent. Truth be told, he wanted Angseth to accompany him to investigate the "warp core" that had been shipped here. Yet another part of him was stalling. He needed to tell her, to find out how far she had progressed into her addiction. And when he did start to share that information with her, she would undoubtedly begin to question as to how he came about this knowledge. _"Angseth."_

Vera froze. He had always called her "Private" "Captain" or more recently, "Commander", but never by her name. "Yes?"

_"Where did you get those earrings?"_

"Nowhere," Angseth answered immediately. She suddenly felt defensive, protective over these small stones on her ears. "Why do you ask?"

_"What do you know about those earrings?"_

"They're earrings, they look pretty on my ears."

_"You're not the kind of woman who cares about her appearance."_

"Excuse me?"

_"I will wager, those are one of the only sets you own,"_ Weavel turned to face her. _"I know where you got them, and more importantly, I know what they are. The only thing that disturbs me, is that you don't know what they are, or what you're doing with them."_

Angseth didn't like where this was going, and she tried to divert the path of the conversation. "And what does this have to do with our mission to find Aran?"

_"Everything,"_ Weavel called the bartender over. _"One good strong drink. Dense world brew if you have it."_

"Didn't know you drank."

_"It's not for me,"_ Weavel waited as the man brought a tall glass over filled with honey colored liquid. _"For you."_

"Geez, even Briar didn't buy me a drink on the first date."

_"I have a feeling you will need it,"_ he watched as Angseth took a sip, them winced approvingly. _"There are a few things I need to explain to you, about Aran, about Metroids, and about you."_

"I'm listening."

_"I hope you are. There was an easter egg in the file Aran gave me. The hidden file was a picture of you, a younger you, wearing those earrings. You come from the Isrec mining rings. And shortly after you left, those rings were invaded by Gamma Fleet."_

Angseth glared at him from the corner of her eye, then took a deeper gulp from the drink.

_"I was part of the boarding party that invaded the mines. We had orders not to take anything except the people. Ridley wanted the people for whatever reason. At the time I didn't care. It was a mission we had to complete."_

"Weavel, you had better be careful about what you say next."

_"Shut up,"_ Weavel snapped. _"What I have to say isn't easy, and you will listen. Put away the petty shit and listen to me. Through research our scientists discovered that the Isrec mines had been saturated with Phazon at one point. Your people, and yes even you, had been living and adapting to the stuff for generations. Your bodies had adapted toward using it to supply extra energy to function. Hadn't you ever been curious why you never eat as often as everyone else on your crew, or why at times you feel uncontrollable rage? Rage to the point that you had been prescribed medications and counseling to control?" _

Another deep gulp, and the glass was almost empty. "Go on."

_"Your people had developed an immunity to the mutative effects of the Phazon, yet were still able to benefit from its radiation. Ridley had discovered this by some means, and had kidnapped the entire colony to conduct experiments on,"_ He watched as Angseth's eyes darkened. Her food now forgotten, her gaze fixed firmly on the table as she listened. _"Our scientists found that the adults were unable to live outside the colony for long. Their bodies had grown too dependent on the radiation. It had to be a certain amount. Too much and they would die, too little and they would starve. But the children, those who hadn't yet reached full maturity, were able to develop almost normally without the Phazon, and were also able to adapt to higher concentrations. But the higher the concentration of Phazon, the more they lost their sanity."_

"Weavel stop."

_"No, you need to hear this Angseth, you need to listen because it's not easy for me either. None of the children survived to adulthood."_

"Why? Why are you doing this? What kind of sick game are you playing?!"

_"Ridley and the Gamma Fleet scientists had been playing around with Phazon for some time. They couldn't use it to upgrade our soldiers because it caused too much __mental instability, we couldn't use it on the Metroids because it would kill them. What did it benefit this group of humans?"_

"Wasn't Metroid Prime,"

_"Yes, and no. Metroid Prime was a fluke, a one in a million, but I'm getting ahead of myself. Angseth, you are the last from the colony, and the last with these inherent abilities. I can also see that you have no idea what those abilities are. So listen to me."_ He paused as Angseth finished off the drink, and ordered another. _"You are a Phazon addict. It's in your blood, and your main source is from those earrings. Now, I'm guessing that since you left the colonies during your teens, you had already developed a kind of dependency on the radiation, and your first few weeks serving in the Federation was a de-tox period. And you gained control over the addiction until your first visit to Aether. There you encountered the substance again, and your body absorbed as much as possible from different sources. Once again when you returned to the safety of the Federation, you would have been going through another de-tox, and most of your violent actions written off as Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome. But you pressed on for another twenty years until we met each other on Tallon IV. When I had scanned you there, your body had been coated in enough Phazon to radiate an entire ship."_

"My warnings had never gone off."

_"I'm surprised you place that much faith in Jones suit. I don't know what happened in your stay with the Chozo, or Luminoth, but I can theorize that when you returned to your ship, your withdraw symptoms returned, and you instinctively went for the only source you had, the earrings. Unfortunately for you, they aren't enough to sustain you for long periods of time, which is why you keep going for them. I've seen you reach up and touch them no less than seven times during this conversation."_

Angseth dropped her fingers away from her ear, and folded the digits under her hand on the counter, as if putting them away. "Okay, if what you're saying is true, then why continue to interact with me?"

_"Because I need you to find and rescue Aran."_

"I don't understand."

_"Okay, then remember Metroid Prime, how I said she was a fluke?"_

"Yes."

_"Metroids and Phazon were a lot like the Isrec miners. They could feed off the radiation, but too much would cause rapid mutation and kill them. Gradual introduction to the Phazon just made them addicts. But the right amount at regular intervals created the Fusion Metroids. Those then became the base breeding stock for the rest of the Gamma Fleet experiments. And then there was Prime. She was different, right from the __beginning. She had been wild-caught, and not part of any breeding program. Her DNA made her a perfect subject for flash tests, a flash test is where they basically bathe the Metroid in as much Phazon radiation as possible for a few seconds, then recorded the results. Usually flash tests would cause the subject to explode, or turn to ash,"_

Angseth's eyes widened.

_"But Metroid Prime didn't die immediately, instead she evolved. And you should know the rest by now."_

"I still don't see what this has to do with me."

_"When I found you here on Rovien, I had to run through the aftermath of a few flash-tests. Or that's what it looked like to me. I'm assuming that the Metroid DNA that Aran's had been fused with was native to the planet, and not of Gamma Fleet breeding stock. When you attacked the clones, you essentially overloaded their ability to adapt. You are the most efficient weapon against these clones…provided you can keep your sanity."_

Angseth gripped her newest drink. "Why me?"

_"Why not? Can anyone choose their fate Commander?"_ He watched as she sipped, then drank deeply.

Vera took the cup away from her lips, then pulled her forgotten bowl of Udon over. "Phazon…you know what this means if it's true."

_"I know a lot of things, but what in particular are you concerned about?"_

"I will have to step down. If I am addicted to a substance, I will need to step down as Captain of the Mabus."

Weavel then said off-handedly. _"Bounty Hunting isn't a bad calling."_

Vera paused for a moment, then gripped her chopsticks. For the first time in years, her mind went blank. Years ago the young, impatient, stubborn, and defiant Private she had been would have jumped at the chance. Would have forgotten everything about her past and chased down money and fame in the Far Reaches.

Would have. Could have. Didn't.

The back of her head began to ache. At first Vera couldn't place the source, but then she remembered. Admiral Mizzen had grabbed her there. Grabbed her and held her down to the desk. She had made a vow that day out of fear, out of anger, out of defiance, but mostly out of loneliness. In retrospect she could have sued the Admiral for all he was worth, dragged him through the courts and made him pay for assaulting her. But she didn't. He knew that she needed that small push, the grab, the lecture. In turn Angseth realized that she needed the Federation. She needed them, they were her family. Had she always been an addict? _No. No you were never an addict, and you still aren't. Weavel is mistaken._ Then again, it made all too much sense. Her anger management issues, her sudden berserker-like rages, her sudden strength and speed accompanying high emotions.

Angseth finished off her food, then her drink. The ache on the back of her head hadn't faded.

_"I don't know how to read these conflicting scans I'm getting from you."_ Weavel said.

"I'm a Marine."

_"What's that supposed to mean?"_

"I'm a Marine. I chose this path when I could have turned off at any time. Even if I am an addict, I've been one for some time. But I'm a Marine first and foremost."

The speaker near Weavel's neck crackled for a moment, then sounds of laughter came from it. For a moment Angseth's face wore a confused expression. Weavel quickly calmed. _"I think I know why Samus put so much faith in you now."_

She slurped up the last of her noodles. "So tell me about this 'warp core'."

* * *

"What do you mean?! Of course it's me!" came the shrill cry of a female human that did bear a striking resemblance to the Captain. Serec grinned widely, then called Commander Bearn to remove the imposter. When the bounty had been issued, the Chairman neglected to mention the hordes of imposters that would come forward to claim the bounty. Some were obviously fakes, some had done their homework and either came in full armor, or at least had her personality down. When all else failed, Sakari would perform a quick DNA scan to disprove their identity.

When Angseth did arrive with Weavel, she couldn't help but giggle. "If I ever need a body double, I know where to look."

_"Scum, all of them,"_ he commented. _"How do you want to do this? Push your way to the front of the line?"_

"No. I'm gonna watch. We've had these drills before, and I want to see how they do in a real life situation."

_"We don't have time to waste. Can you com them?"_

"Sacul rigged my com so I can only speak to you, and her. She really wants that fighter," Angseth found a place to lean on the wall, scanning random faces before her. _This is really creepy. I guess I can understand how Aran feels._

Commander Bearn and two troops escorted another imposter away while cursing. "This is turning into a circus, we need a more refined screening process. The Captain wouldn't come here."

"Working on it," Serec mumbled, then paused. Sakari also lifted her head, their gaze fixed on a far wall. "She's here," Serec announced.

Angseth made eye contact and gave them a small wave with her hand.

Sakari nodded, then stood from her chair. "Clear the room will you babe?" She asked her husband. Commander Bearn began barking orders as Serec and Sakari walked to the wall. Angseth leaned on it, Weavel stood guard. "How long have you been standing here Captain?"

"About ten minutes," Vera removed her helmet and smiled. "How long have the two of you been standing here?"

"Too damn long."

Serec smiled. "I do believe that our Captain is slightly lit."

"You were the one who decided to post a Confed. fighter as a bounty," she shook their hands. Angseth felt relived. Her troops were okay, and now she had everything she needed. "Serec, Sakari, Zaine, I'd like all of you to meet Weavel. He will be assisting us in our mission from here."

Weavel stood still as three pairs of skeptical eyes scanned over him.

"Captain?"

"I don't want to hear it," Angseth said quickly. "He's been an inside informer to me for a few months now. We had agreed to make contact again, I just didn't think it would be like this."

"Does he get the bounty?" Serec asked.

"No. He's acting as a go-between for the woman who did save my life, our lives," Vera looked over faces of her crew. It would take a while for them to accept Weavel. It would take even longer for Briar to understand. "Treat Weavel as if he were a part of our crew. We owe him that much in thanks."

"Captain, if I may," Commander Bearn spoke up.

"Go on."

"How can we trust a Pirate?"

Angseth smirked. "We can't trust Pirates. Good thing he isn't one," she clicked her helmet back in place on her head.

Weavel couldn't argue the point. However the comment only left Commander Bearn more confused.

"I need to speak to the Chairman," Angseth began downloading reports that had been filed since she had taken her detour.

"Oh he's dieing to speak to you," Sakari mumbled. She glanced Weavel over, then stepped closer to her husband. "We received confirmation on our supply delivery. We're ready to go as soon as you are."

"I'm not quite done yet. I still have unfinished business here," Captain Angseth said as she walked down a connecting hall toward Rovien's main meeting chambers, where she was sure the Chairman was waiting. She clicked on her com. "Sacul, let me have my coms back. I need them."

_"And there is a fighter with my name on it, you remember the plan,"_ Sacul's voice snapped over the line.

"I'm being nice Sacul. Give me back my coms, or I will take them back, and you along with it for jamming a Confederate officer's equipment. I don't need to tell you how much of a fine that carries," Angseth retaliated with just as much of a bite in her tone. "You will get the ship. I'll keep in touch," She watched her HUD to make sure that Sacul lifted the jam.

_"It's not a good idea to anger Sacul,"_ Weavel fell into step beside her.

"Weavel, you and this entire station are about to learn why no one at home in the Orion Sector pisses me off. I ask questions, and you just answer yes or no."

The cyborg tilted his head to the side, processing the sudden change in Angseth's demeanor. Was it because she was around her troops again? Or was it because she was now back in control? He read her vitals, her body language, and the answer came to him in a way that he could understand. Angseth was afraid. When she was afraid, she became more aggressive, the Phazon clinging closely to her body almost like a defense shield. There was also another emotion underlying her vocal patterns that he couldn't place at the moment. For the moment he would humor her. He did need her to get Aran back, and she needed him.

Angseth clicked to a private com line. "Weavel, do you trust me?"

_"Yes."_

"Do you have the proper information to find Aran here?"

_"Yes."_

"Can you get us there?"

_"Yes."_

"Are you good at improvising?"

_"Yes."_

"Good," Angseth stood before the portal to the Chairman's council room. She pulled her helmet off as it opened, simultaneously putting on her best face. The Chairman glanced up from his glass of wine, and his yellow eyes met hers. A smile spread over his features, parting a few of the silver studs on his lips. Vera was never the type to react on first impressions, but that one smile suddenly endeared him to her. "Chairman?"

"Captain, so nice to finally see you," he offered her a seat.

"I don't intend to stay long Chairman. I'm in a bit of a hurry," she took the seat offered, hoping her smile would hold. Weavel stood behind her to the left, Commander Bearn directly behind her, and Serec at her right. Dr. Bearn took a place behind Serec, while the rest of her Marine escort filed in.

"Your supplies have already been delivered. Will you not stay a while longer?" the Chairman noted her entourage.

"Chairman, if the situation were not so dire, I would gladly share a drink with you and talk until the stars cease to shine. I am here as a formality. I seek permission to enter Rovien with my troops."

"Very blunt my dear, and didn't you fill your purpose during your first tour of Rovien… Captain?"

"I was able to complete one of my objectives. I have further reason to believe that there is a Metroid breeding program active on board Rovien. I do not need to tell you the consequences in the event I find one."

"Rovien is not bound by Confederation laws. You are here only by our good will. I cannot allow you to invade Rovien without proof."

Weavel reacted by pulling up a holo screen. On it he displayed the file Aran had sent them, all still written in Chozo. _"This is a hunting permit issued to us by the Chozo, for the Metroids on board this station."_

Angseth watched the Chairmans eyes as he examined the file. Was Weavel taking a gamble? That file wasn't a permit of any kind, but if the Chairman couldn't read Chozo, he wouldn't be any wiser. To his credit he appeared to peruse it thoroughly, then closed the holo. "Very well, I'll give you a permit for six hours to scour and see what you can find. Then it's open season on Marines."

Six hours normally wouldn't be enough to get the troops equipped and loaded, but Angseth would take what she could. Haggling with this man wouldn't buy them more time, and if she managed to complete her mission in such a small window it would definitely boost Rovien's view of the Confederation. "Six hours it is," Captain Angseth and the Chairman shook on it.

As she clicked her helmet back on she noticed the she had been paged several times by Commander Bearn.

"Oh, Captain," The Chairman called. "Just one question if I may. How did you get him?" he pointed at Weavel.

Angseth looked Weavel over, then spat out. "A hired gun is a hired gun regardless of who signs the check."

Weavel stiffened. He didn't like the comment, but he couldn't argue it either. Angseth stood from her seat, then began barking orders over the com line. Instantly Commander Bearn and three others started running for the drop ships. The Captain had kept Weavel on standby, yet allowed him to listen in on the Confederation band.

"Weavel?" Angseth suddenly spoke. "You still listening in?"

_"Yes."_

"Can you map out a path to take to Aran's location?"

_"I can, but it will be difficult to get so many to that location without angering the locals."_

"I trust you can find a way to do it."

Weavel reached out and grabbed Angseth's shoulder before she could walk away. _"What is the meaning of this? I thought it would just be the two of us. That was the deal. All these men will be slaughtered by those clones."_

Angseth smiled. Her eyes dark behind the blue visor. "I can't believe that I'm hearing this from a former Pirate General. I know the risks, and I am confident that we can overcome them. The Confederation is not a solo game. We move en masse, and we move fast. We hit hard enough to take down our foe on the first strike."

_"You are a Colony."_

"I guess you could say that. And now you are officially on my payroll. Lets move. Six hours is too little time for what we need to accomplish."

* * *

"Ice missiles, Ice beams, Ice grenades, Ice guns, if it causes shit to freeze, grab it and go!" Commander Bearn called over the com line to his waiting troops. Six hours. What the hell was the Captain thinking about trying to take out a Metroid nest in only six hours? Even though he sat comfortable and safe in the drop ship he could imagine all the soldiers under his command, running around their bunks and locker rooms getting their crap together and loading up. The Pirate was making him nervous. Cyborgs in general made him nervous. Bearn didn't like how he couldn't see the creature's eyes, or face, or read the subtle effects of body language one would find on a normal living, breathing, creature.

Lieutenant Commander Briar had already been transported back to the Mabus, along with Sakari and Serec. Angseth stubbornly insisted on remaining aboard the drop ship. Like Bearn, she didn't want to miss the chance to see a few of their most prized weapons in battle. The Mabus had been equipped with Daimler-class drop ships. These drop ships easily converted from space-worthy transports to ground-treading Armored Personnel Carriers. This new technology made it easy to ride the drop ship straight into a station or planet, convert, then be on the move once again, all without needing to unload troops or lose time. This would prove more beneficial and safer than running with their troops exposed for anyone in Rovien to pick off. They would use three of the Daimler-class ships in this operation. Hopefully the locals wouldn't have heavier artillery than the Mabus did.

Commander Bearn could tell from the vague display of inverted text on the Captain's visor, she and Weavel were having one hell of a conversation. After two more Daimler drop ships had joined them in orbit around Rovien, the Pirate of all people sent out a map of Rovien's interior along with a route to follow to a destination point. The destination wasn't much to speak of, just like everything else on this station. The archives had it listed as a storage facility and by the information given in the map, it was a sizable one. Located in the heart of a decayed industrial district. The gods only knew what kind of fate could await them there.

Commander Bearn had requested a force of just over fifty men. A small enough mass to move through Rovien's interior with the aid of the APCs, yet enough to make a stand against Metroids. Angseth had said that these weren't normal Metroids, and after seeing the recorded video feed from both the Captain and the Pirate, he was inclined to agree with her. A hostile situation, unfamiliar unmapped territory, and the odds stacked against them. Captain Angseth really knew how to bring out the best in her crew, and Commander Bearn wouldn't have it any other way.

This time as the troops flooded into Rovien, the locals cleared a path for the large APCs as they moseyed their way through another crowded disgusting market. This time they had a more tangible goal. Their attack would be unexpected. They entered the industrial district with guns ready and finding only a chain-link fence providing resistance. No guards had been posted, not even a lackey or two to defend the storage facility. The lack of resistance made Bearn question the Captain's judgment and subsequent faith in the Pirate.

The storage facility consisted of a large space broken down into many smaller storage lockers. They couldn't tell what this part of the station might have been at one time or another. The space seemed to be an amorphic shape, with storage lockers crammed into whatever corner could hold it. Each locker was sealed with a double-iris door to keep its contents safe. The Daimler's broke into the space, guns ready and looking for conflict. All that met them was a quiet room with closed and available storage units. Once the "all clear" had been given, Bearn turned his attention to the Captain and the Pirate.

"Perform a sweep of the perimeter, keep the guns ready, and let me know if anything seems out of place."

"Captain, we could be in here for hours looking for Metroids." Bearn commented.

Angseth instead looked to Weavel. "Any ideas on where to start?"

Weavel hadn't been in command of any force, large or small, for so long he wasn't sure how to answer. Instead he referred back to his files. _"Our search should be confined to the lower level. There is another floor beneath this one where the climate-controlled storage is located. If she's being kept on ice, it would be there. But it won't be big enough to take the Daimlers into."_

Angseth switched her gaze to Bearn as if that answered everything. Instead Bearn scrutinized her features before giving the command for the troops to move out. Vera waited for a moment before joining them. She didn't like it when anyone studied her to that extent. Already she was straining relations by introducing Weavel as a trusted adviser. That would shake their faith in her, and might jeopardize the mission.

Angseth stepped out of the Daimler and walked along the side of the room, her hand running over the closed doors to their individual storage bays. She opened her line to Weavel. "Do I need to state the obvious?" she looked around.

"_It's not like you to be shaken so easily Private. You're the boss right now and if I were you, I'd tell Bearn to shove it up his primary waste-discharge orifice,"_ the cyborg began scanning objects in the room.

The giggles bubbled up once more. Pure and untainted by the bitterness and desperation of the past few years. She had forgotten to turn off her com, and everyone present got the full effect. They vanished quickly as a freight elevator and shaft was uncovered, exposing an entrance to the lower level. Silence swept over the com lines. Gastanaga was the first to state the obvious. "I don't like this."

"What is it?"

"The shaft had been sealed…from the inside."

Angseth hung back as Bearn called his forces, and one by one, they began to file down to the lower level. As soon as Angseth swung her legs over the lip of the shaft, she understood what Gastanaga had felt. Once, long ago she had been called to help in a clean-up mission on a large scout ship. The ship had been found floating in space, all of its systems either locked up or completely dead. No sign of the crew had been found, and the troops she had boarded with still maintained the hope that the crew had escaped. Angseth had been the unlucky one to pry open the last door, and found the entire crew dead on the other side. Aside from the shock of finding the carnage, she had the odd feeling she had invaded someone's sacred space, she wasn't supposed to be there. Slipping into the lower storage bays of this facility felt very much the same. Something had happened down here and someone was trying to prevent it from escaping.

A signal went over the com line. The first body had been found.

"Who is it?" Angseth asked.

"A Professor Makeryti. Plasma torch in his hand. Cause of death…unknown at this point due to mummification," the report was sterile, devoid of emotion. Regardless she heard those around her ready their weapons in the event of attack. Before and around stretched rows and rows of steel cages, some empty, some filled with random junk. Here there may be someone's prized wooden furniture, over there she could see components for an engine contained in the steel mesh. Along the walls were larger compartments with roll-top doors. The Marines broke into smaller groups, fanning out and exploring every last corner of the climate and atmosphere controlled room.

Angseth and Weavel brought up the rear, only entering an area after it had been cleared by the others. The Captain ran her right hand over the steel doors and chain-link cages, as if by touching them she could make the situation seem more real. She had a bad habit of thinking that everything beyond her visor was just pretend, images playing across a video screen. She needed that small bit of contact to ground her thoughts and emotions. Angseth had made it almost two thirds of the way down the right-most side of the room when the sting in her sinuses began. Her nose wrinkled and she froze in place. They were here, somewhere in this room.

Slowly she scanned her surroundings, looking for anything out of place. Her gaze stopped at the storage locker on her right. The roll-top door had been welded to the floor. One of Professor Makeryti's final acts perhaps? Quickly she called Bearn and Weavel over and used the tip of her rifle to point at the welds. "There. Pop that door," Angseth snorted, trying to ease the ache in her sinuses.

Weavel heard the small noise over his com line. _"You can smell them?"_

"I don't know what it is. I couldn't detect them before. Ever since I encountered those things when I was chasing Svenson, My sinuses start to burn. Like I snorted chili powder."

_"Interesting,"_ Weavel watched as Bearn gathered a few men to open the door. Everyone else took defensive positions near the wall. Angseth slipped into place with them. A minor charge broke the welds and two marines rolled the door open. Three others investigated the storage locker. Angseth instinctively brought her left hand up to her nose, but met her faceplate instead of flesh. The burn was intense.

"Clear. Nothing in here."

"Bullshit," Angseth breathed. She moved to the front of the line and peered inside. The locker was small, only twenty feet by twenty feet, and completely empty, not even a loose screw on the floor. "Scan it. They're here. I know they are." She stepped back to allow her specialists to examine the room. Tense moments passed before results ran over her HUD.

"There is another room underneath this one. Sub-Vibration scans indicate that it's the entry point to a larger compound."

Angseth nodded slowly. Sub-Vibration scans had originally been developed as a way of finding weak points in a structure. A minor wave of energy was sent through a solid mass and depending on the results that bounced back one could determine the shape of a structure. Developed mainly for civilian use, it proved to be invaluable to the military because the scans made it much easier to locate hidden rooms. The only downside was by the nature of the scans, it gave away their own position.

Further exploration of the floor of the locker uncovered a cleverly hidden trap door. Low-tech enough to go unnoticed by basic scans. Once again everyone took a place on the outside wall as the hatch was opened. Angseth thought that the burn was bad before, now she could barely see or focus. Tears began to roll down her cheeks and her nose began to run. The scent was vile, it was filthy, it was wrong, it was decaying, it repulsed every last fiber of her being. More unsettling, no one else around her seemed to have noticed the scent. Angseth opened a private line. "Bearn,"

"Yeah?"

"Can you smell that?"

"Smell what Captain?"

"It's bad, it's…" she opened her eyes enough to notice Weavel had his gaze fixed only on her. "Your scans can't pick up anything abnormal?"

"Not yet. Should I be lookin' for sumpin?"

"Just keep your guard up. I think the air filters in my suit may need to be replaced."

"Yo, you straight, Captain?"

"Yes, I'm alright," Angseth focused on Weavel, on the yellow faceplate, on it's contrast to the olive-gray of his armor and body. He stood still, helping her to ground, to fight back the burn. He knew. He knew exactly what she was going through. Vera was sure of it. As if to affirm her suspicions, he gave the slightest nod.

The first Marines began to enter through the newly opened hatch. Everyone else on the top watched the live feed through their HUDs as the entry team scanned a round room with five closed and locked doors placed at even intervals along the walls. A map was soon downloaded of the compound. The hidden level consisted of two large cold storage rooms, with an elevator leading further down into more cold storage. The other two doors were office areas.

"We've got another body."

Angseth observed the body through the feed on her HUD. _They're_ _like really grotesque bread crumbs._ She thought as Bearn began to order marines down the hatch. Now the Commander was taking this threat more seriously. Metroids were not creatures to toy with. A few Marines were left on the surface to stand guard, or to call for back up if something happened to the men down the hole. Captain Angseth jumped in behind them. Weavel spoke to Bearn and Angseth on a private line. _"I can assist." _

"Then help keep an eye on the Captain," Bearn replied.

Weavel looked to Angseth as if for confirmation, and the Captain only shrugged. She and the cyborg once again took a defensive position along the wall as five troops approached one of the cold storage doors, and popped the keypad. A moment later the portal slid open spilling heavy frozen fog and cold air into the room. Numerous laser sights attempted to cut through the mist but only succeeded in causing more confusion. The men stood ready with their breaths held in anticipation as the fog thinned.

The cold storage room consisted of one long tube-shaped hall, lined on either side with cryo-pods. Unlike the pods used for cryostasis, these had been wired strictly for refrigeration purposes. Each pod bore a read-out of the status of its contents. Angseth felt the burn in her sinuses increase as a count came back over the com lines. Thirty cyro-pods in all, stacked three high and five deep to the back of the storage bay. Each one contained a humanoid figure seemingly carved from golden-yellow glass. Angseth stepped forward past the Marines, and into the storage bay. She stopped next to one of the pods and peered inside. The contents were eerily similar to what she had seen on FQ3-59. Vera felt ashamed. She hated how cowardly she had reacted then, turned running and screaming from a monster on that planet.

"We need to destroy them," Bearn said softly.

Angseth snapped around. She had expected Weavel to say something like that, but not Bearn. "Yes," she responded. "We do."

"Captain," Bearn said over a private line. "Is this the reason you were gone for so long?"

"Yes. I have been formally briefed by Admiral Mizzen and several high-ranking Chozo officials. They wanted this matter to be handled as discreetly as possible. Weavel have been assisting as an inside contact."

"I wish you had told me sooner," Bearn ordered his troops back, then called commands over the shared line. "I need someone to go back to the Daimler's and bring back four anti-tank incendiary mines. Gastanaga, get that second cold storage bay open, keep an eye on those tanks."

"Yes sir."

"When he gets back, place two charges in each room, seal the doors, and remotely detonate them. That should clear them out. Kill any stragglers."

Angseth began assembling a smaller team to investigate what lay at the base of the elevator shaft. As soon as she inspected the door she grew wary. It too had been welded shut. Whatever the problem was, it lay at the base of the shaft.

_"Looks like fun,"_ Weavel commented.

"To you perhaps. Let's just get the thing open," she stood back as another small charge was set, destroying the welds and allowing the door to open. Every last Marine in the room stood in silence, the interior was awash with small red targeting sights. For the most, the elevator seemed intact; the back wall bore graffiti of indeterminable origin. However the floor was completely missing. Angseth only needed a glance of the interior before the pain in her sinuses became unbearable. She stepped back away from the bulk of the group, both to escape the pain, and attempt to gain control of the sudden rage in her heart. It made no sense. Why would she be angry? Why did she react this way? She glanced up again at the dark hole in the elevator, and knew that there was only one way to end this madness.

Weavel watched silently as Angseth swept past him, pushing her way through the Marines clustered around the shaft. He knew that stance; he knew what it meant to see her faceplate glow with even more blue ferocity than normal. He saw light gather around her right hand. For all he knew, she was about to pull a suicide mission. The Cybrog reached out to stop her, missing her arm by inches_. "Someone grab her!"_

The Marines appeared confused by his orders, allowing their Captain to pass through toward the elevator again unchallenged. Bearn snapped his attention up at the last moment as Angseth disappeared over the edge of the gap. Weavel scrambled after her.

"Did she just go in?" Bearn rushed after him.

Weavel didn't respond. Already his body was little more than an olive-green speck vanishing into darkness.

* * *

Weavel carefully climbed down the interior of the shaft. Something bad had happened down here. Something very bad. If there was a secondary hatch or room at the base of the elevator shaft, it had been blasted away. For a moment the cybrog paused, taking note of the damage and felt a chill go down his metallic spine. It did look like the Damned Woman's handy work. She laid waste to everything in her path. He jumped the last twenty feet, his scanners and sensors on high. So far, so good. Everywhere was the stench of Metroids. Stronger here than up in the storage bays. Up there were only frozen specimens, down here they were living, breathing, feeding.

The debris scattered around him indicated that this area might have once been a lab, but like everything else it too had been completely ruined. He didn't need to scan the dead computer terminals to know that some experiment went horribly wrong. Always did when it came to Metroids. Weavel almost jumped when his com came to life.

"Weavel," Bearn. He knew that Bearn didn't like him, but silently rejoiced in the knowledge that just his presence seemed to anger the Marines to no end.

_"I'm here."_

"Can you see Captain Angseth?"

_"Not yet, I'll notify you when I've located her."_

"I'm sending down three more to assist. Can you give us visual feed?"

_"Just a moment. I need to calibrate," _Weavel had to admit that if circumstances weren't so dire, he would be amused. Right now they had a bigger problem than Metroids. He needed to find Angseth. He didn't care for her life one way or the other, but right now she was so hyped up on those little Phazon dregs that almost anything could happen. He approached a bend in the hall, although whether it was an actual structural fixture, or just the result of the chaos was hard to determine. Angseth was there, standing in the middle of a relatively clear area. _"I have visual."_ Behind him he could hear the other three troops land. Something still wasn't right.

The Captain stood, her body seemingly consumed with blue fire. Her presence alone was the only source of light in the small chamber. Weavel raised his hand to halt those behind him. She was toxic right now, probably so consumed with the sickness that if either he or those troops came within five feet of her they would be affected. In the blue light he caught a glimmer of yellow-green along the walls. They were here. All along the walls he could see them, completely still, and clinging to scorched surfaces, all their small red orbs fixed on Angseth in the center of the room. The clones would attack if provoked, and even if it was in his power to fling all these Marines at them, Weavel knew that this small force would not be enough to overcome these skilled hunters. To their credit, the Marines halted, although kept their distance from the bounty hunter.

"What's going on?" one asked.

_"Shut your hole if you want to live."_

A door at the other end of the chamber suddenly opened, illuminating all of the Metroids present on the ceiling and walls. Angseth's gaze seemed to be fixed in that direction. Her blue aura seemed to flicker for a moment, then the glass-like Aran clones all her around her descended, closing in and grabbing her, consuming her with their weight and combined strength. Angseth's body suddenly tensed, the clones then began to drag her body over the floor to the now open door. Weavel jumped from his hiding place, firing away at the clone's backs, the Marines joined him.

Then on the other side of the door, the Cybrog saw _Her_. She stood calm, serene. Weavel paused long enough to meet her blue eyes. The clones pulled Angseth through, and the door snapped shut.

* * *

_I've been waiting for you._

Vera felt no need to fight. For once the scent wasn't as intense, it was almost comforting. So many hands all over her, so many supporting emotions. She felt enveloped by safety and security. For a moment she railed against the emotions, trying to search her soul for some kind of panic or fear that she could cling to in order to ground herself in the present. She knew that these things were dangerous; she knew that they had every intention of feeding from her. But she didn't understand her actions. How did she get down here? Why had she left the safety of the group to come here? Was this a part of the addiction? Her thoughts became harder to hold onto.

_Angseth, open your eyes._

That voice. Soothing, comforting, almost motherly. Yes. That was the word, like her mothers tone. Her eyes were clamped shut. She had closed them to attempt to lock out all external sensations, but all it did was heighten them. Relax, yes, she needed to relax. Vera slowly complied, and felt her knees touch the floor, hands released her legs as she moved to support her own weight. Her hands met the floor as she assumed a kneeling position. Carefully she opened her eyes. Her HUD was dark, the power in her suit had been drained. She could just barely see through the tinted glass. Beyond, the room seemed to be bathed in gold light.

_Angseth,_

Hands reached from above, thin, ungloved, human hands. The fingers slender, trim nails, and smooth palms. They touched her helmet and reached under her chin, along the sides of her jaw, to an area near the back of her head. With one small gesture, the helmet hissed open and broke away. Warm air touched Vera's skin, cooling the sweat that had gathered there. Those hands dropped her helmet, and then returned to her cheeks.

_Angseth, look at me._

Slowly she tilted her head upward. At first all she could make out was the color blue, blue and gold. It took a moment to recognize a pair of legs before her. Her gaze traveled up a lean torso, small yet full breasts clad in the same blue, shoulders, and then…

She smiled. Perfect blue eyes peering out from behind light yellow-gold wisps of hair. Her lips parted as her smile broadened.

_I'm here._

And for a moment, Angseth believed that she _was_ there just for her. That everything outside the door and ten floors higher was only a distant dream. Out there only existed blood, hardship and death. Here she had joy, safety and love. But why? The question washed from her mind as those fingers lightly touched her cheeks again. They traveled down her jaw line to the base of her ears, they examined Vera's earrings for a moment before moving on. Her palms rested on Angseth's cheeks as those fingers gently skirted the skin on her neck. Vera searched that beautiful face once more, past her full smiling lips and deeper into those blue eyes. She ventured to look past the shapely blue shoulders to the walls and ceiling of the room.

They were everywhere, glass-like yellow, red, and green bodies in various states of mutation, fangs, red eyes, some with numerous arms and legs. They all sat waiting patiently for this one perfect example in the room to finish.

_Mother_ had the privilege of first feed.

That was enough to bring the panic roaring to the surface of Angseth's mind. That sweet scent worked to push it down again, but now Vera had grabbed onto her fear and clung for dear life. Angseth suddenly reached up and grabbed Mother's wrists, then fixed her brown hard gaze onto those blue orbs. Her voice cracked as she spoke.

"You're not her. I wanted to believe you were, but you're not Samus Aran."

Mother suddenly reacted. Her hands broke from Angseth's grip, and clamped firmly down on either side of Marines head. Vera gasped and screamed as her energy left her. Burning through her skin and veins, and then…blue.

The sensation was familiar, her anger tangible, her fear a weapon. The others dropped from their places in the room and closed in. Angseth's right arm didn't just ignite, it burst into blue flame. Vera rose to her feet screaming, drawing her arm back, then thrusting forward, burning and burying her fist deep into Mother's chest. The scent returned, as pungent and disgusting as ever. Mother's mouth opened and emitted a long shriek-like wail. She may be a Metroid, but she still seemed to have all the internal organs of a human. Angseth didn't stop fighting until she found the small fluttering cluster of muscle she knew to be its heart. Her fingers closed around the mass of tissue, and then she channeled all the Phazon energy she had left in her body into her palm.

Angseth had expected to see Mother's body become smooth and gel-like, she had expected to see the cracks form along the surface of her skin, much like shattered glass, what she didn't expect was the chain reaction that occurred a moment later. In his haste Weavel had neglected to mention one small detail about the experiments involving Metroids and Phazon. Both Metroids and Phazon tended to release large amounts of energy when agitated. This energy reacted to and fed off the other much like fire when exposed to pure oxygen.

As Angseth released the Phazon energy from her palm, the other clones closed in. The energy traveled through the room creating an explosive chain reaction. For a moment the world was blue and burning. There was screaming, and Mervera Diane Angseth was the cause of it all.

* * *

"Get that door open!" Bearn shouted over the com line.

"Its welded from the inside!"

_"Move,"_ Weavel pushed his way through the cluster of Marines. He used the toe of his boot to nudge one of the demolitions experts aside near the door. With practiced ease, he extended his Battlehammer, and then thrust it into the seam running down the center of the door. He struggled for a moment, then twisted, cracking the seal and forcing the door open.

The room beyond was dark and still. Instantly several Marines activated their floodlights to illuminate the chamber. Silence fell over the com lines. No one wanted to speak, even Weavel, who had been the cause of many horrific scenes himself had nothing to say.

Angseth knelt in the center of the room, her back to the door. Harsh white light refracted off her armor-clad back. Dark skin peeked over the rim of her collar, her hair sweaty and smooth against her scalp. In the air were small gray flakes of ash. They fell slowly to the ground, which had been already covered in almost two inches of the powder. Along the walls and ceiling were bodies, also rendered to ash, victims frozen in time, arms raised to defend themselves against whatever destructive force had been unleashed.

Flakes of ash fell and landed on Angseths hair. She didn't move, didn't breathe.

"Captain?" Bearn said aloud.

Angseth flinched, her shoulders shifted. Slowly she turned, looking over her shoulder toward the group of Marines. Weavel only caught the barest glimpse of her cheek and corner of her eye before she turned to face forward again. Simultaneously, Bearn and Weavel stepped forward. They paused for a moment, studying the other before continuing into the room, their feet stirring up the ash on the floor. Weavel knelt on her right, Bearn on her left.

The Captain had changed. Her skin was now broken by dark black lines running under her flesh, Phazon corruption that had finally climbed its way up her spine like a living creature, infecting her features. Weavel reached for her, gently taking her chin and turning her to face him. At first she fought, then slowly gave.

Vera tried to look into Weavel's faceplate, past the reflective surface toward those many little lenses she knew were on the other side. Instead she saw her own reflection, her face marred by the black marks of poison, ash caught in her hair, and the most stunning revelation, her eyes. They were no longer the brown she had come to accept. They were now white, completely bleached with no iris or pupil. Yet she could still see. Her stomach began to churn. Adrenaline took over and she began to heave. Weavel let go of her chin as she bent over and began to retch. Sitting five feet before her was another charred body, this one more humanoid than the others, with slender fingers and delicate features now turned to ash.

Weavel collected her charred helmet as Bearn assisted Angseth to her feet. She stumbled and fell to the floor, kicking up more ash. Bearn picked up his Captain from the floor, and slung her over his shoulder once the heaving stopped. The Cybrog took one last long look around before following Bearn.

* * *

Dr. Sakari Bearn looked up from her holo screen as the gurney carrying Captain Angseth hovered into the room. She was expecting her. Her husband had called ahead and let her know about everything that had happened. The Metroid nest had been destroyed; all the ones in stasis had been dealt with.

"Set her over there," Sakari pointed to a vacant slot near the wall, then continued with her work. The doctor periodically looked up toward her newest patient, then ten minutes later, confirmed a voiceprint and PIN number on her latest report. Finally she stood, stretched, and walked over to Angseth.

Vera lay on the gurney, her armor had been removed and she wore the standard issue gray jumpsuit bearing her name and rank. Restraints had been placed around her wrists and ankles, with a few across her torso for good measure. Her body jerked and twitched, and she took careful breaths through clenched teeth. Dr. Bearn stood for a moment, her arms folded, looking down at Angseth with sadness and disdain.

"Sa-" Angseth gasped.

"Please be quiet," she pulled up a holo. "You're going into withdraw. I imagine it's not going to be pleasant. I'll sedate you in a moment, but regulation states that I can't give you anything until I have notified you," Sakari tried to remain distant as she examined the results on the holo. "Dammit Vera."

"I had to,"

"To what? How the hell was I supposed to know you were a Phazon addict? Do you have any idea how angry it makes me, to know that you've been lying to me all these years? How long has it been Vera? How long have you been an addict?"

"I am not-"

"Then how do you explain this?" She pointed to the holo screen.

"I can't."

Sakari pulled up a chair and sat down. "I don't want to stretch this out any longer than necessary. I'm too angry and it hurts too much. So I'll let you know," she sighed deeply. "Briar has issued warrants to arrest Weavel and the other who aided him, Sacul."

"What? He doesn't have the authority for that!" Angseth shouted.

"Weavel came quietly. He's in the brig. Last I heard Sacul was enroute to the Mabus."

"Sakari,"

"I have the rather unpleasant duty of notifying you, Mervera Diane Angseth, that you have been relived of your duty as Captain of the Mabus. Lieutenant Commander Briar has already been sworn in as Captain. We took a vote, and myself, along with the other officers no longer feel that you are of sound enough mind or body to serve as Captain."

Angseth couldn't have been more hurt or shocked if someone had just walked up and shot her in the head.

"I won't lecture you anymore. You're sick, and you need help. You've been needing help. I've agreed with Briar that you will be confined to your quarters until we can hand you off to the proper authorities. That might be a while. We've received an SOS call from the Salem."

"Sakari, may I just have one request,"

"If it's a reasonable one."

"My earrings, can I have them?"

"I don't know where your earrings are. You didn't have them on when you were brought aboard the Mabus." She stood and came back over with a small ampule.

Vera winced as Sakari injected her with the sedative. At least her dreams would be more peaceful.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21:

Angseth rattled through her toolbox again before selecting the proper wrench. She bent over the edge of her cockpit and leaned inside to tighten a bolt. Her new cybernetic leg was holding out just fine, and in the next week she would begin her officer training classes at Orion Central Command. Her brief career as a fighter pilot had ended with the loss of her leg and fighter during the accident. She had managed to salvage parts of her fighter, and convinced Command to allow her to rebuild it. Unfortunately most of the work now fell to her to fine-tune the craft. This was now officially _her_ fighter, and she would be paying it off for the rest of her stay in the newly reformed Galactic Confederation.

She replaced the wrench, then reached over and grabbed the sealant to use on the bolts. Vera wiped her hand across her forehead, leaving a smear of grease. Her leg braced against the side of the craft. Someone suddenly breathed next to her ear.

Vera gasped and wheeled around, ready to deck anyone with the sealant tube. Instead she heard a chuckle as Medical Officer Nevada Briar stepped away.

"Urgh! Briar! You scared me!" Angseth dropped the tube into the interior of the fighter. Briar had been making a nuisance of himself lately, making sure that her new leg was holding up.

He chuckled low in his throat again, then stepped in closer. "I wanted to come and tell you the good news."

"Well, while you're tellin' make yourself useful and hand me those knuckle busters," Vera turned and bent back over the lip of the cockpit to retrieve the sealant. A smile spread across Nevada's features when he beheld the tight curved silhouette of Angseth's rump bent precariously over the rim of her fighter. He made a quick glance around the docking bay to ensure that they were alone. "So what news couldn't you wait to tell me?" she called.

"I've quit the medical core."

Those same cheeks flexed as she came back up for air. "What? Why?"

"I've transferred to the judicial sector. I'll be majoring in intergalactic and criminal law, with a side of conflict resolution."

"That's quite a shift," Angseth braced her hands on the rim of her fighter, then spun and sat on the edge. "What made you do it?"

"A couple of things. My family isn't going to be too pleased with my choice."

"Why not? Lawyers and legal counselors still make a good living in the Confederation."

"I guess I shouldn't expect you to understand, since you came from a mining colony," Briar tossed her a clean rag along with the tool. "My planet is new to the Confederation. My people spent a lot of money to get me here, under the belief that I would return with advanced medical technology and training."

"Yeah, I'd say that your new career move would piss me off if I were them," she caught the rag, and wiped her face with it. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why would you quit? You haven't answered my question."

Nevada grew quiet, his eyes scanned the wing of the fighter. He glanced up at her cybernetic leg. "How is it?"

"Answer me."

Briar traced his gaze up her boot, along her leg, and soon found his eyes locked on hers. Her hair had been cut short, a cowlick near the side of her head caused her jet black curls to stick up at a strange angle. Angseth's dark skin was slick with sweat and lubricants from her fighter. She suddenly smiled, her dark eyes alive and bright, a blush spread over her cheeks as she looked away. His one glance and expression in his eyes betrayed his thoughts. No matter what excuse fell from his lips, the true reason would always be that he had quit the medical core to be closer to her.

"That's a stupid reason to quit," she spat.

"I don't think so," Nevada answered truthfully.

"You should go back home to your planet, be the doctor your people need."

"No. I don't often make decisions like this, so I will stand behind it," Briar stood, straightening out his uniform and clearing his throat. "I would be honored, if you could accompany me to a celebratory dinner tonight."

"You're asking me out?"

"Yes."

Vera became suddenly still, her eyes wide. She had never been asked out by anyone before. One-night stands had been her forte. Dense world humans usually didn't appeal to "normal" humans. Cross-species relationships were equally frowned upon. Briar stepped forward, his hands met behind his back. His ears perked as he watched Angseth clean her face and hands with the cloth. She tossed the rag into the cockpit of the fighter and went searching for her coat. After a moment she returned, slipping it on.

Briar pulled a small navy blue handkerchief from his front pocket. "Missed a spot," he carefully reached forward and wiped a small bit of grease from her cheek. "I can pick you up later, perhaps around five?" he purred, letting go of the slip of fabric as she reached up to meet his hand.

Angseth dabbed at her cheek with her handkerchief, and slowly closed her eyes. "I haven't a damn thing to wear," she mumbled.

* * *

Captain Nevada Briar stood alongside Dr. Sakari Bearn in the medbay of the _Mabus_. For the moment they were quiet as Briar looked through the data before him. His uniform was crisp and clean, his nose and cheek swollen, and one arm in a sling. Seemed as if Weavel's attacks had caused a little more damage than he had thought. His arm wasn't broken, but the tendons and muscles had been hyper-extended to the point where they needed to be kept still until it could heal. He had been sworn in as Captain less than four hours ago, and his first duty had given orders to respond to an SOS call from the _Salem_, a deep-space station on the frontier. He hoped to end the Pirates raid on the boarder regions and establish a base of operations until the Confederate forces could get their shit straight.

"Do you want to speak with her?" Dr. Bearn asked.

"Not yet. Not until I have things under control," Briar said coldly. He loved Angseth more than anything else in this universe, and ever since they had left the safety of Syren I, he had been walking a very fine line between his love for his mate, and his duty as a Confederation officer. At the moment if he even so much as laid eyes on her, he knew that he would be shattered, and he couldn't lead the _Mabus_ into battle in that state of mind.

Angseth had been moved to her room two hours ago. A pair of guards had been stationed at her door, and the sedatives were slated to wear off in eight hours. Sakari had requested that they keep her sedated, with regular shots every six hours to ensure she stayed unconscious. Their ETA at the _Salem_ would be in just over forty-eight hours if Serec kept the ship cruising in high warp. Briar had also ordered the _Mabus_ to request assistance from any available ships that may be in the area. He didn't want to believe that his headache was from the sudden weight on his shoulders, he wanted to believe that Weavel had caused it by the many blows dealt to his feline head.

Weavel and his accomplice, Sacul. Those two were a liability. He had them arrested and held in the brig on board the _Mabus_. When everything settled, then he would toss them both in the same room and find out exactly what had happened on Rovien. Until then he just needed everyone to stay put. Surprisingly, Weavel had come willingly, he didn't even so much as spit out a curse or insult to his captors. Sacul on the other hand, needed ten marines to pin her down and another five to apply her restraints. She refused to give up any information save for her name.

As Briar walked toward the bridge, once again to take up the Captain's chair in his mates absence, he ran over all the minute checks and balances in mind that kept the _Mabus_ running. Everything had been done by the book. He responded to the SOS as per regulation, he had restrained the former Captain in a way to preserve her dignity and safety, the crew wasn't any worse off than they had been, and everything was going smoothly. This was the way a ship should be run. He tried not to think about Angseth's haphazard way of handling the ships affairs, how she even became a Captain was beyond all means of comprehension, yet not only was she a captain, but a highly decorated one at that. Why? What did she have all these years that he didn't? Briar had taken all of the courses, he had learned every last nuance of the ship, every chore, every station, if things ever became really bad, he could even get by in engineering. In essence, Briar knew enough and had enough skill and experience to run the _Mabus_ single-handedly. So what did Angseth have that he didn't?

Not a word was said as he pulled himself into the floating Captains chair. Aside from the SOS, they hadn't received any other communication from the _Salem_. Briar kept an eye on the monitors surrounding the chair, and whatever was displayed on the main view screen. His body ached, his arm hurt, and given his current duties, he was just plain miserable. He didn't foresee encountering any difficulties until they reached the _Salem_. If he could just stick it out for another two hours, he could retire to his room and get some much-needed rest. Even as he opened holo windows, he could see the remnants of Angseth's presence. A random wallpaper here, a personal file there, a list of ship timetables overlapping her own schedule. Briar opened his personal settings files, sterile and lacking any of the character that Vera had dispersed amongst her own, he saw traces of Angseth all over the _Mabus_.

He had told Dr. Bearn that he didn't want to visit or speak to Vera. He didn't need to go to her, because traces of Vera would find him.

* * *

Vera wished that she could sleep. She wished that the drugs that Sakari had given her were strong enough to shut her mind down and not just her body. Dr. Bearn, the intelligent woman she was, had scheduled regular injections at six-hour intervals. If Angseth were not on the receiving end of the injections, she wouldn't argue the doctors logic. If the sedatives didn't cause her headache to get worse, then she wouldn't complain so much. The sedatives were supposed to wear off in eight hours, but when the four hour mark ticked by, Vera began to gain the ability to move her fingers and blink consciously. By fate or fortune, Dr. Bearn never factored in that Angseth's body would either adapt to the sedative, or metabolize the drug at the higher rate than a normal patient. Either way, Vera was thankful.

Once her body was placed onto her own bed, in her own quarters, it gave her the peace and quiet she needed to think. She needed to focus on the here, now, and possible future. If she tried to think too much about the past, she knew that she would feel over whelmed. Mother's features were still fresh in her mind, familiar blue eyes, and that sincere smile.

_How can they be familiar if I've never met her outside of that one time on Aether?_

She stopped that line of thought. It was easier to do now than before. Either the drugs or the Phazon made her thoughts slippery. Thankfully the sedative dulled the aches in her body. So, Briar had been made Captain. She could only dodge that bullet for so long. It was a miracle her crew put up with her "vacations" as much as they had. If Briar was heading for the _Salem_, chances were that it would be another Pirate assault. She had no doubt that he could handle himself, and the _Mabus_, but she still had her own mission to complete. Was that why Weavel came along quietly? Was he counting on her to come and save him? Or…

"He has my earrings," she suddenly said aloud. And in that moment she felt ashamed. She had become more concerned with the whereabouts of her next fix, than the fact that she had been kicked out of her place as Captain. This was bad, and in that case, she could understand why Briar and the crew reacted in the way that they had. She struggled to move her arm. Her cybernetic limbs would be a little easier to command around through the sedatives than her organic limbs. She smiled at the thought. She would have never guessed that she would place her arms and legs into one of two categories: real and fake.

_I need to get out…I need to find Weavel and Sacul, and then find Aran, then…_

Why? Why would she put her ass on the line for two, possibly three people that she had just met? Two were bounty hunters, and the other was a disgraced Chozo. It would be stupid of her to turn on her own crew. Why did she always insist on completing every mission she had solo? Try as she might, she wasn't Aran. She wasn't even Weavel. She was a Marine. She was born a Marine, and if luck would have it, she would die a Marine.

Her right arm lifted slowly, and reached for her dressing table. She never really had a need for a dressing table in the past, but it did add a nice touch of domestication to an otherwise sterile room. For the time being, she stored her formal dress blues and medals inside it. There was nothing there she could use, but if she could reach it, then she could drag herself out of bed at least. Her hand fell short of the top of her dressing table, and her fingers caught on the knob for the top drawer instead. She pulled, and the drawer opened, spilling the contents to the floor. Amongst the usual spill of baubles and decorative medals, an old datapad fell out, hitting the floor heavily. She stared at it dumbly for a moment, wondering why that would have been in there, then remembered. It was her old datapad, the one that had gotten her into so much trouble years ago on the _Arcet_. Why had she kept the damn thing?

Angseth pulled it toward her, sliding it over the carpet, and booted it up. The screen flickered, then displayed it's painfully outdated holo-interface. It was like she had stepped back in time twenty years.

_First and foremost I am a Marine. Not a Phazon addict, I am a Marine. As long as I remember that, I'll be okay._

Vera leaned over, and placed all the little bits and pieces of useless junk back into the drawer, then carefully leaned over and replaced it. By her calculations, Dr. Bearn would return in two hours to give her the next injection. She needed to work quickly. Her crew didn't know that she could move, or was even conscious. She would rely heavily on this small fact. Angseth placed the datapad on the floor near the bed. She hit the appropriate icon to open a new file, and began to upload data stored within her cybernetic arm. Very slowly and deliberately she began to record everything that had happened to her since leaving Syren I, the Chozo data file given to her by Samus Aran, meeting with Weavel, and the data files he had given her. She even began the paperwork necessary to document the Siafu as an intelligent species in need of help from the Confederation. When the door to her quarters slid open, Angseth quickly slid the datapad underneath the bed, and did her best to play dead while Sakari gave her another injection. Within two hours, Angseth was back at the datapad, leaving nothing out of this telling. For the first time, the name Siairus, and Sacul would grace the Confederation data banks. At the six-hour mark, Angseth was up and walking around her room, reading back over the file, and changed into a new set of clothing. She supposed that it would do for a last will and testament.

Vera was drinking a glass of water when Sakari stepped into the room to give her the next injection. The black marks had faded from her skin, and her eyes had regained their pupils along with a new frost-blue iris. The Doctor took two steps into the room, then pulled her firearm and leveled it on Angseth.

"Relax Doc," Angseth tried to sound casual.

"Get back on the bed before I call those men in the hall to come and hold you down."

"I'm not getting back on the bed," Angseth set the glass down. "I realize how much I've hurt you, and that by now you probably have no reason to trust me. I understand my situation, and I will stay confined to my quarters until the Captain dictates otherwise. Under my own free will."

"Angseth, please lay down," Sakari's hands shook as she held the gun.

"Did the Captain order you to keep me sedated?"

"I had recommended,"

"Did he _order_ you to keep me sedated?"

The gun rattled even more. "No."

Angseth took a step closer to the doctor. The woman was afraid, she could tell by the sweat on her skin, the way she held the gun, this wasn't like her at all. In one more step she closed the distance, and placed her left hand around the barrel of the pistol, turning it away. Sakari inhaled sharply, the air whistling over her teeth. Vera paused, realizing that she had moved very quickly, too quickly for comfort. Taking care to move more slowly this time, she pulled the clip from the pistol, and removed the round from the chamber, then gave it back to Sakari. "I'm sorry, I haven't quite gotten the hang of everything yet."

Dr. Bearn looked down at the pieces of the pistol in her hands, then pulled the syringe loaded with the sedative out of her coat and set it on the countertop. "I want to study you more closely. See what is happening to you."

"I already know what is happening. I guess, I'm formally requesting permission to visit the Captain. I have information for him, once he gets it, then it's up to him how he chooses to use it," Angseth sighed. She had never in the past, needed to request permission to see Briar. "I'll stay here, and I promise, I won't leave."

Dr. Bearn picked up the syringe again. "I'll talk to him, but if you betray me again Vera so help me, I will take whatever measures are necessary to protect this crew." The tears pulled at her eyes, but her gaze and voice remained steady.

"I understand," Angseth sat down in her living area. The thought that she had lost a good friend didn't escape her. Vera would wait until Nevada called for her. Sakari stepped backward through the door, her attention never swaying from Angseth until the door slid shut.

* * *

An hour later Angseth was escorted to Captain Briar's quarters under heavy guard. Four men that she had come to know very well were suddenly faceless and foreign to her. Out of respect, she wore casual clothing that didn't have any sign of rank on them, and under her arm she held the datapad. They stopped before the door to his office, and Vera held her breath as the door opened, part of her disbelieving that she needed an armed guard to visit her own Fiancé, and another part of her accepting that this was protocol, this is the way that Briar wanted things.

By the Book.

For the moment she both despised and praised his predictability. The door slid open and Briar sat behind his desk. Instantly Angseth's heart cried out to him. He was beaten, swollen, obviously in much pain, yet still tapping away reports at various holo screens. "Leave us," he sighed, not looking up. The guards left, and for a moment Angseth stood in silence, feeling more awkward and vulnerable than she had in years. Captain Briar closed the holo screens, and rubbed his shoulder. "Please sit down Vera. What could you possibly want to say to me?"

Those words cut deeper than any blade. She sat down quietly, then placed the datapad on his desk. "I want to come clean. Everything is in that datapad."

"Are you planning on leaving again? Tearing through your own ship to free Weavel and Sacul? Going off on your own?"

"No. I'm not."

"If you're planning on leaving again, let me know now because regardless of how important you may think your mission is, I cannot take it if you leave _me_ again!"

Angseth winced, and looked away. His amber eyes were too harsh, too angry, too frustrated.

"If you're going to go, then go! Take your shit, pack up your weapons, take what you want and _leave_!" he glared from the other side of the desk.

"I'm not going anywhere," her voice sounded tiny and insecure.

"Oh that's a departure from the norm," he stood and circled around the desk. "I love you so much, but you have no idea what you have put me through. Don't you feel any remorse or guilt?"

"Briar, I didn't come here to get lectured,"

"That's _Captain_ Nevada Briar," he hissed. He had her pinned, she was here, and by the smell of it, was very close to tears. She would tell him anything he wanted to know. She was here. For the moment she would not move. She was here.

"Nevada,"

"Angseth, the _only_ reason I happened to be captain of this vessel right now is because the powers that be ultimately deemed you unworthy of that title. Our situation seemed to get worse every time you left us. _You_ are this ships rightful captain! Our whole crew stands behind you, me, Dr. and Commander Bearn, we all care about you, our inspiration and…and you just take it all for granted!"

Angseth felt seriously that this lecture was unnecessary, especially from her mate, "With all due respect, _Captain_ Briar, every single detail of my absence is documented in that datapad. My time off the ship wasn't just about some absurd flight of fancy after a galactic legend, not anymore! If you would just—"

Her sentence was cut short by an exasperated sigh from Briar as he paced tightly behind his desk, rubbing the lightly downed bridge of his muzzle. He precluded his next statement by resting his hand on the surface of his desk between the holo-projectors for support, his fine claw tips partially gracing the mahogany. "I'm not sure if I've…made myself completely clear, Angseth. We have all managed, during your off ship 'missions' and under my command as stand-in Captain to scrape through ordeal after ordeal by some _stitch_ of luck, not my textbook strategies! Our primary inspiration for pulling through was to survive for our true captain to have a home to come back to. What if…what if something seriously bad had happened to you out there, huh? So you lost your arm? You can always buy a new one. What if you had _died_!? Don't you realize that it would be a number of _months_ before we'd heard anything, sketchy details at best, while being utterly clueless? And," he exhaled sharply. "It's mere happenstance that I'm speaking with you face to face in my quarters right now! What if your contacts or the Confederation itself decided to keep you captive on court marshal, or torture or… I don't know _what_ the hell else! We were completely in the dark, with only your memory to lead us!"

"The datapad has all of the reasons for my time away, B-, Captain," Angseth stated, with mixed emotion, as Briar paused to take a breath. She was about to proceed with what she believed was the assaulting of a dead horse to save Briar some grief, but hesitated again as Briar began to hang his head subtly lower, ears swept back. He was breaking, his noble exterior cracking in her eyes, and as much as she hated to see her mate, the new Captain of the _Mabus_, cave like this Angseth could not yet bring herself to voice her alibi again.

"No," Briar proclaimed, to no one in particular, it seemed, "There's no way. There…just isn't any way that we could go on, to keep fighting without you here, Angseth! There's no…possible way that _I _could keep it up, not alone. My linear, statistical thinking just doesn't make me a real ship Captain. Not with you gone, Vera. Don't you understand?" his voice, indiscernible to all but his mate and blood relatives, skipping for a brief moment in a feline quaver on the last note.

In all of her years, there was one thing that Angseth hated to see. She never liked to see a grown man cry, and certainly never on her account. Briar didn't make a sound or even have the ability to shed tears, but she knew his pain when she saw it. And he was right. He was damned right about everything. She had taken the support of her friends for granted, and been very foolish in the past few months. They needed her. For some stupid reason everyone on this vessel was counting on her.

Slowly she rose from her seat and approached him, fixing her blue-white eyes on his honey amber orbs. She drew closer, for a moment unsure, yet certain that he needed her now more than ever. "Nevada_,_" she breathed, placing one hand softly on his chest, and gently urging him backward onto the surface of his desk. Nevada growled lowly at her, ears folded back and fangs bared. "Please, hear me out," she leaned in closely to him, her body craving his touch and presence even more than it craved Phazon. "At one time, I was a statistic, doomed to die and rot away on some foreign world. I lost my military family there, and ever since its been hard to pull other people to my inner circle. I have been blind to everyone's emotions and feelings as a defense. It's easier to deal with loss if you've never had a concern in the first place. Except you. You taught me how to live again, how to feel again," with smooth movement, she pulled herself up on the desk, her left knee on the outside, straddling him. "You do things by the book, all the time. I have no way to compete with that mindset," she rose over him, her eyes burning against her dark skin as she leaned forward. "You make me complete. And I've been a fool to not see it sooner," Vera leaned forward, placing her right palm near his head. "You are the best rule I have ever broken," her left hand grabbed a fistful of his uniform. Briar hissed, his lips folded over his teeth, and he began to pant. "I give you my word Briar. I am not ever going to leave, without my Captain's permission, if you command it, I will be by your side. I know it will take some time to regain your trust, but it's something I'm willing to fight for," she kissed his nose, and he began a low growl that turned into a purr. Her lips touched the cleft of his upper lip. His hand moved upward, clinging tightly to her waist, pulling her shirt up over her torso and finally her head. His anger had left, instead he gave into her attention, desperate for her touch for so long.

"Do you promise?" he purred.

"I promise."

"For real this time?" he nipped lightly at her exposed shoulder.

"Yes," she breathed. She had never been able to smell him before, smell his excitement. How sensitive had the Phazon made her senses?

"You mean it?"

"Yes…don't you believe me?"

"Not for a moment."

The irritation she normally would have felt at such a remark faded as his rough tongue ran over her cheek. He pulled her closer against his chest. "I love you," she sighed.

"I love you too Vera. Although I can't shake the feeling that once I close my eyes you'll vanish again," he licked her cheek once more. Nevada then playfully growled. "Now that you've got me pinned down to the desk, are you going to finish the job?"

"You know how much I love a challenge," she smiled. All the anger had left her, and by the softer expression in his eyes, he wasn't as angry anymore either. She supposed that was what had kept them together for so long. They didn't like to remain angry at each other, and most fights usually ended like this.

Briar traced his finger over the black marks along her face and neck. "Do they hurt?"

"No. I don't even know what it is. I guess just a display of the spread of the Phazon."

"And your eyes? Can you still see?"

"Yes. Although everything has a bit of a blue tint to it."

"I think it's sexy. Makes you look more bestial."

"These marks don't disturb you?"

"No. Nothing on your body could ever disturb me," his tongue ran over her lips. "As long as I breathe, you will always be the only woman I will ever love. Even when I'm angry, even when I'm upset with something you've done, even when you pull rank on me to get me out of your quarters. You are the only woman in this universe for me."

"Nevada,"

"I mean it. I can't give back your position as Captain, but I can definitely use you as a soldier, when we approach the _Salem_."

"Kitty," her eyes began to fill with tears.

"I know that the _Mabus_ isn't the only thing depending on you. Your new arm and leg attest to that. When Weavel was apprehended, he willingly handed over his Battlehammer, I have it in my safe. What did you do to gain his trust?"

"We both share a common ally. He is a Prince among his people. And I promised that we would help him."

"Have you documented this?"

"I have his own report, there, in that datapad. Everything is in that datapad," she sighed, leaning into him, resting her head on his chest. "I love you. No matter what happens, I will always love you and I will come back to you."

* * *

System Admiral Leonisa sat in her temporary office uncomfortably. She was supposed to return to her own system after Mirson had officially handed in his resignation, but she found excuses to remain aboard the _Paris_, one of the capital stations of the Confederation. Other capital stations included, the _New York, Rome, Cairo, London, Edo,_ and _Moscow_. A few things were bothering her. Admiral Mizzen had left the meeting rather quickly, and seemed to avoid her when she had asked questions about his decisions. That was to be expected. No one liked to have their choices dissected before them by their peers. She chose to stay aboard the _Paris_ as a consultant and possible member of the Electoral College for the newest System Admiral.

Normally a System Admiral would be chosen from a pool of highly decorated candidates with exceptional military experience. The current Admirals would then place their recommendations. Then the central government of the System in question would then have the final vote for their Admiral. Never before had a System withdrawn, just to hold its own election. Leonisa could think of a few worthy candidates that would serve the System well if only Draco had bothered to go through proper channels. But Draco had decided to hold it's own pool of candidates, then vote. Admiral Leonisa didn't have much faith in the next Admiral of Draco, and knew that no matter what, they wouldn't hold office for long.

The candidates were a sad sight as well. Leonisa hoped that if she interfered enough Draco would come to its senses and go back to business as usual. Granted the candidates were the best Draco had to offer, but the more experienced ones had turned down a nomination, which left the pool inexperienced and very, painfully young. Most of the System Admirals had well over ten years worth of combined combat experience, ten more of officer experience, and had headed their own space stations for at least five years. At first glance it seemed as of Draco was about to shoot itself in the foot. Until she further scrutinized Draco's government.

It seemed as if Draco had been reforming its central government for the past ten years. Once this was taken into consideration, it seemed very likely that they would want to choose their own Admiral. System Admirals enjoyed many perks, including the ability to order military action without the blessing of the System's senate. With the way Draco had reformed, the Admiral would have their hands tied, and no action could be taken unless they had the approval of the central government. Normally it would be a formality to ask the central government of a sector for their blessing and permission to undertake a military action, however it would cripple Draco system in the event of a natural disaster. There had been a long-standing complaint within the central governments about the cost of military hardware, research, and troop salaries. Each System footed it's own bill for the troops and ships deployed in a sector. By gaining pre-approval of possible actions from the System's central government, it would help to control the cost of troop deployment.

In that case, it made sense that they would want to elect a young, inexperienced, and easily manipulated System Admiral. As she scanned through the candidates, she wondered which one would be the next puppet. The other System Admirals also would not like having a puppet in their meetings. Most of the meetings were confidential and candid. Laktelos had a raunchy sense of humor that didn't translate well to paper, or with some races. The last thing they needed was someone in their midst that would be required to report and record every minute of their meetings. In order to work as a team, they needed to trust each other. And she couldn't see herself trusting any of these young men and women.

_"Admiral?"_

"Yes?"

_"Admiral Laktelos is on line three."_

Well, speak of the devil. "I'll take it."

A holo image flickered to life on her desk top. She smiled when she saw Admiral Laktelos leaning back in a leather chair, collar loosened and craggy skin framing emerald eyes. _"Good evening Leonisa, or is it morning on the _Paris_?"_

"You were right the first time, evening. To what do I owe the honor of this call?"

_"I'm not allowed a casual conversation? Did you get the cask of Narcusian wine I sent you?"_

"Yes, although I've been saving it for a special occasion. How is life in the Cancer sector?"

_"As well as it can be, and as much as I would love to speak with you, this is a business call."_

"I thought as much."

_"Have you seen the final candidates?"_

"Hmm, well, I have the few bios here."

_"They held clandestine primary elections today."_

"How? I've been keeping an eye on them."

_"Not as close as I've been keeping. They've narrowed it down to three candidates, although I already know who will win."_

"Spill it."

_"This very young kid, Uh…Henry Thomas."_

"Henry…Thomas, you have got to be kidding me," Leonisa pushed holos aside until she had Thomas' bio before her. "I don't care what his test scores look like, he doesn't have the right credentials."

_"According to Syrese officials he does."_

"And what could those possibly be?"

_"As of earlier this year, he is related by marriage to the ruling family of the Syrese Republic. By the time this farce of an election is over, the same clan will control or head every major government function within Draco."_

"We have laws against that kind of thing."

_"The Confederation does, but not the Syrese Republic."_

"They can't be serious. The Confederation will not accept them back under those conditions."

_"It gets better."_

"What now?"

_"Our good friend Mizzen appears to be amassing a small army."_

"How do you find out these things?" she scanned the items on her desktop. "I don't see how you've drawn that conclusion, I don't see a surge in recruitment levels."

_"That's what bothers me. I grew curious when he mentioned Angseth. Normally he wants that woman as close as possible, but now it seems that he's cast her away."_

"I noticed that too."

_"So I broke the seal on a few of her files. I think I know what he was up to with her."_

"Do tell."

_"She comes from the Isrec mining rings. A place that we now know was saturated with Phazon. I think he was trying to use her to resurrect the PED system."_

"That's absurd."

_"Is it? You know how much he loves all the new technology his beloved Pentacle churns out,"_ he poured his own glass of wine. _"Think about it, he purposely put her in high-stress situations with impossible odds, I think to get a rise out of her. And he could be there for her to study and enslave when the supposed Phazon abilities would arise."_

"I think that's a bit of a stretch."

_"But you wouldn't put it past him would you?"_

"Not for a moment," she scanned Thomas' file once more. "So…what makes you think Mizzen is amassing an army?"

_"The way he's acting, mainly. Either he's gotten what he wants from Angseth, or he's found something else. Either way, once this election is over, I think its going to surface,"_ he chuckled. _"And here I thought he shared a desire for dense-world flesh."_

Leonisa rubbed her temple. "I didn't need that visual."

Laktelos laughed more deeply. _"I'll keep you posted, but just in case, keep your engines hot,"_

"And my guns oiled," she finished. "I understand, thank you Laktelos."

_"We'll make it out of this. I'll see you soon."_

As his holo vanished, she stood and went over to her cabinet, pulled out a bottle of wine, and poured herself a glass. She took once sip, then pressed the com button on her desk. "Lieutenant Talas?" she called to her second in command.

_"Yes Admiral?"_

"I want you to relay an order. All ships and troops on standby, tell them to be prepared to advance on the Draco sector."

* * *

She didn't want to move. She was warm, safe, and happy. The pillow under her cheek smelled of sweat and musk, and against her back Vera could feel the gentle press of the soft fur on Nevada's chest and stomach, one arm-the good one, curled around her waist protectively. His legs were tucked in tightly against hers, their feet entwined. At some point in the night she had pulled the covers tightly in toward her chest. Her back ached from the Phazon withdraw symptoms, but his warmth was enough to ease her discomfort. Her legs were another type of soreness altogether, one that brought a smile to her lips. His head rested near her shoulder, his breath rhythmically caressing her cheek. She listened to his respiration letting her eyes close, savoring the moment.

_How long will this last? Will this be the last time I'm in his arms?_

Her fingers clenched the sheets tightly. _What will happen when we get to the __Salem__? What will I do once we're there? Will I be confined to my quarters until things get really bad? How will Nevada handle this?_ For the first time in years, she felt unsure, questioning the judgment of those around her. Angseth was accustomed to being in charge, when she was in charge she knew what to do, and how to react. Briar would respond in the way the book told him to. Great for routine missions, but not necessarily the best course in real combat. Ever since leaving Syren I, their trip had been anything but routine.

_You're acting like you were there every step of the way. If you counted up all the hours you actually spent on the __Mabus__ since leaving the Seattle, I doubt they would tally more than a week. Yet Nevada had managed quite well in your absence, why would this mission be any different?_ The voice of higher reasoning asked. As much as she hated to admit it, the voice was right.

"You're thinking too loudly," Nevada purred. "What is it?"

"I'm worried."

"That's apparent," He licked the back of her neck, extending to her shoulder. "After last night, I had hoped you wouldn't keep anymore secrets."

Vera sighed. "I don't know what will happen to me, once we reach the _Salem_. I try not to think about the future, I try not to think too far ahead because then I will have time to doubt. And now that I'm no longer in control of the _Mabus_, what will you do with me?"

To her surprise, he began to chuckle, punctuated by purring. "I have already thought all of that through, and cleared it with Sakari and Zaine. I had all of the pieces in place before I accepted your request to see me."

"I don't understand,"

"Vera, you're not the only one who can be stubborn. Many of the things that you've done, I've been a few steps ahead of you, clearing the red tape and just waiting for you to make the final push," he nibbled on the back of her neck and shoulder. "I've assigned you to head the fighter squadrons. Serec should have your fighter loaded up and ready to go for air support. Bearn doesn't want you on the ground providing a possible hazard to his men. Sakari agrees that the contained environment that your fighter provides would be best to keep potential radiation at bay. I feel that your fighter would make you feel more comfortable. All three agree that in the event you go rouge, it will be easier to deal with you."

Angseth listened with her breath held. She didn't like to hear him speak of her in such an analytical manner, but in the end she couldn't disagree. If she were in the same position, she would have made the same choice. She lay in silence as he licked at her shoulder. His teeth dug in and she gasped. "One thing has been bothering me. Why did you go after Weavel on Rovien, instead of helping me apprehend Svenson?"

Briar's teeth sank a little deeper, almost to the point of breaking skin, Vera winced yet remained still. He slowly let go, then licked the place he had bitten. "I heard how you said his name. I saw it in your body language. You knew him somehow. Since you had been gone for so long, I had been…uncertain. I grew jealous. I didn't know that he was a contact of yours."

Angseth thought it over, then suddenly sat up in bed. "You mean to tell me, that for the first time in your life, you acted out of passion instead of what regulations stipulate?"

"No. Not the first time in my life. This was the second. The first time was when I quit Med School to be with you."

* * *

"Captain, we're nearing the _Salem_."

"I'll take it up here," Briar examined the read-outs as they began to fill the holo screens around his desk. The station had been under heavy fire, and the outer hull was damaged. For the moment the fighting had let up. From this distance, they could get an accurate count of the Pirate vessels that surrounded the station. Near the eastern hemisphere, he could make out the remains of a jump-gate. It seemed as if the first wave of Pirate fighters had been focused on destroying the gate, and now that their main source of Confederate re-enforcements had been destroyed, a second wave of Pirates were moving in.

"We're getting a hail sir."

"From the _Salem_?"

"No, from the Petraeus. A deep space exploratory vessel," Bagra called out. "Fleet Admiral Arget'ni is responding to our request for assistance. She has several other smaller fleet vessels with her. Their estimated time of arrival is eight hours and ten minutes."

"And our distance from the _Salem_?"

"Estimated contact is in four hours."

"Looks like we will be the first ones to the party. Give the order to our fighter wings and tell Bearn to keep his troops ready. We can clear out the few Pirate stragglers from this wave and help the _Salem_ bolster it's defense systems before the next one hits." He hit his com button. "Serec."

_"Yo!"_ The engineer's holo popped up, along with another.

_"Permission to speak freely Sir?"_ Angseth's voice along with a small holo window appeared at Briar's side.

"Granted," Briar growled Angseth wasn't the one he wanted to speak to, but since she had already spoken he may as well hear her out.

_"Since we still have four hours until contact with __Salem__ air space, I would like to lead a small scout mission to verify if there is an incoming Pirate force. We need more information."_

"And how do you propose to do that _Commander?_"

_"Well, _Captain_, you had been generous enough to arrest a former Pirate. I suggest asking Weavel what his feelings are, and if he wouldn't mind tagging along."_

"Do you think he can be trusted?"

_"Yes, and if he can't be, you won't waste many fighters. I don't require much, just myself, Weavel, and two escorts. Sacul could also be of some assistance. If you ask her nicely, she might be willing to forgive the intrusion and help us."_ Angseth's eyes were set and serious. _"Please allow me to take a chance."_

Briar looked between Angseth's holo and Serec's holo. He checked the current scans of _Salem_ airspace, and had to admit that they were going into this battle blind. "Serec,"

_"Yes Captain?"_

"Get a few teams of engineers ready for transport aboard the _Salem_. We have a very small window to pull off this mission." He then turned to Angseth. "Keep your nose clean Commander. You have my permission."

_"Thank you, I won't let you down!"_

* * *

Weavel glanced up from the floor of his cell as the door opened. There were enough comforts in the cell by human means, but the bounty hunter preferred the floor. To their credit, his captors had regulated the atmosphere in his cell to be more adequate for his cyborg body, and his was permitted to tap into the energy grid for a much-needed recharge. Aside from the fact that he wasn't allowed to go anywhere, he might as well had been staying in a nice hotel.

The main door opened, but the observation force field still remained in place. Two power suited marines stepped through, one he recognized as Angseth, and the other he supposed was a random grunt. The grunt stood to the side as Angseth removed her helmet. Weavel stood, then walked to the field to greet her. _"Nice accommodations Private."_

"If I could put you in a state room I would. That's up to the current Captain of this vessel."

_"You are no longer Captain?"_

"No. You should be able to draw your own conclusions on that."

_"Seems as if your little secret is out."_

"And I'm better for it. I came to ask for your advice."

_"This is very bad for business Angseth. It's one thing to take me into custody, but to go back on your word and apprehend Sacul as well?"_

"I had no say in the matter. If it were me, I would have just given her the bounty as soon as I had the chance. Unfortunately, Briar doesn't see it that way."

_"So, Goody-Good is running the ship."_

"Yes. Weavel, I don't have much time. We are approaching the _Salem_, it has been under Pirate attack. With so many other stations and colonies lost, we cannot afford to loose this one. We think that this was only a first wave, they took out the jump gate. We think that there may be a second wave, that will then complete the job on the station."

_"What are you saying?"_

"I want your help to defeat Gamma Fleet."

"_You're asking me to turn against my own people?!"_

"No,"

_"Yes you are! You want me to help you kill my own people!"_

"Shut up for one goddamn minute and hear me out! I am tired of everyone second-guessing me now! This is all I have left in my life, and I'll be dammed if I won't use every last card I have in the deck to win!"

_"You stupid bit-"_

"SHUT UP!" Angseth noted that her marine escort had backed out the door. Between her withdraw symptoms and her current frustrations it was going to be harder to keep her anger in check. "Too much blood has already been spilled. You killed my people, and I've been killing yours. Figuratively speaking we have been killing each other for a long time. I want it to stop. Aran was in the process of helping you to save your people when she was taken by mine. With your help, I can ensure that this action will have minimal casualties."

_"Why should I help you?"_

"Because the Siafu are not my enemy. Whoever is giving them orders, is." She ran her hand back through her hair. "I should be angry with you. But you at least gave me some closure on what happened to my parents, which is more than what the Confederation ever did, regardless of how many inquires I wrote. The hate has to stop somewhere, and I've decided that it stops with me first."

Weavel sat in awe of this angry glowing creature. For the moment he was happy that she was on the other side of the field. At some point the tide did need to be turned, and if they did so now, even if their efforts came to nothing, at least they could say that they had tried. He scanned his memories, to a time before he had been confined to the metal body.

_"You're partly right. A first wave is typically sent out to both scout and destroy what they can. Information is then relayed back to the main force, and then Ridley will make the final decision. In the case of a jump gate, the gate is to be disabled, but not destroyed. Gates have essential components that we can use. Since this is a deep space station, it has many useful components. We've gotten really good at raiding, and stripping a station down of its resources. One of the greatest risks we take in assaulting stations on the periphery, are roving bands of competing Pirates from other empires. Most of them don't bother to cross the void. However once a station sends out a distress signal, it's like ringing a dinner bell. _

_ "The second wave is a much larger fleet, followed closely by a third. The second wave has all of the heavy artillery used to secure the station and subdue the inhabitants. The third wave is comprised of our chop-shops, and resource engineers, with minimal defensive capabilities. They go in, strip what they can, and get out before the other scavengers arrive. The second wave then provides cover for the third as they escape."_ Weavel leaned against the wall, folding his arms. _"Lately I have heard from those that I still call allies within Gamma Fleet, that a group of Kriken warriors have been catching us in mid-assault, and foiling some of our efforts. That can only mean that this attack will be desperate. The Kriken will close in more quickly since they are already in the area."_

"What can we do to prevent this?"

_"Since the first wave has already made contact, the dinner bell is ringing. Stalling any longer would be bad for both of our peoples. This one battleship will not be enough to defeat the second wave, and will only give false hope to the inhabitants of the __Salem__."_

"Then we need to disarm that fleet somehow." She leaned on the opposite wall from Weavel, examining him through the green haze of the field. "How?"

_"We need to overtake or destroy the command vessel of the second wave. The entire mission is orchestrated from the command ship."_

"If we can knock out central command, then the other ships won't attack? And the third wave won't move in unless Command gives the order. Is there any other chain of command in place?"

_"It's usually not necessary."_ He mumbled. _"If, and only if, the Kriken appear, then Gamma Fleet will defend their prize, the __Salem__."_

"Then that will leave us fighting a war on two fronts, Gamma and the Kriken. And they the same."

_"I will assume command of Gamma Fleet."_ Weavel said solemnly.

"Will they listen to you, after all that has happened?"

_"I am their Prince. If they choose to disobey me, then they are no longer my people."_

The other Marine stepped into the doorway, and stood across from Angseth, and slowly removed his helmet. Vera smiled. "Nice of you to finally join us Captain." Weavel stood from the wall, his body language showing agitation.

Briar tucked the helmet under his arm. "Weavel, am I right in assuming that you would not have given her all this information if you knew I were here?"

_"You would be right."_ The cybrog glared at Angseth. _"You tricked me?"_

"No. I meant every word I said." Angseth sighed. "Captain, may I have permission to allow Weavel to join my fighter wing?"

"Permission granted." Briar deactivated the force field. "I believe this is yours." He passed over the activation unit for Weavels Battlehammer.

Weavel stood frozen in place as the field dropped. _"Why?"_ He directed to Briar.

"Because my Fiancé may be crazy, but I trust her judgment more than most sane people." Briar said smugly. "You will be paid, but we can work that out after the _Salem_ is safe. Vera, you may show your new recruit the ropes."

"Aye Captain."

Briar watched quietly as Angseth and Weavel walked swiftly up the hall toward the express lift. So he never took chances as a Captain huh? How was this for a chance? A bounty hunter and a highly unstable Phazon addict were about to launch a scout mission to gather information on a Pirate fleet. Well, these were desperate times. Shortly after Angseth and Weavel had left, Serec rounded the corner, heavy boots rhythmically pounding the floor.

"You wanted to see me Captain?" He chirped.

"Yes, I was thinking about releasing our other captive. Angseth says that she's an engineer. If she agrees to play nice, then you're in charge of her."

"I don't know if that's a good idea considering how much she struggled when they brought her in. Engineers are dangerous people when they want something." Serec followed Briar to the last cell at the end of the hall.

Sacul sat on the small bed frame, picking at her fingernails. Her PLASMA hadn't been removed, if they had tried to pull it away, Nevada was sure that she would have killed someone. He didn't care what secret she had. If Angseth vouched for her, it was enough for him. When the door opened the thin human woman jumped up screaming. _"YOU BETTER HAVE A REAL GOOD LAWYER YOU ASSHOLE! WHEN I GET DONE WITH YOU, I'M GONNA OWN YOUR ASS!"_

"Nice to see you're doing well." Briar commented. "I've come here to make you an offer."

"Go to hell!"

Serec rounded the corner, then stopped in the doorway. His normally cheerful expression melted off his face, replaced with recognition and dread. This change in attitude didn't escape Briar. "Do you know her?" The Captain asked.

After a moment Serec breathed one word. "Yeah."

Sacul stopped her screaming for a moment, her gaze fixed on Serec. "Holy shit!" She exclaimed.

Serec took off his glasses, pulling a rag from his pocket, cleaning them. Nevada knew it as one of his few nervous gestures. "She's my older sister." He said flatly. "I'll keep an eye on her. She will behave."

"Serec, you're kidding! Serec!" Sacul shouted, standing up on the bed.

"Sacul. If you want out of there, I suggest you listen." Serec said coldly.

For a moment Briar was taken aback by his old friend's sudden change in appearance. "I didn't know you had any relatives."

"We studied together. I majored in propulsion technologies, and she took up biomechanics."

Sacul stood on the other side, arms folded. "I thought you were dead."

"And right now I wish I were." Serec said, his smile returning.

* * *

Angseth led Weavel away from the lock-up, and into one of the many express lifts in the _Mabus_. She tucked her helmet under her arm and reached forward to press the appropriate button for the fighter bay. As the door closed, she exhaled heavily.

"Please tell me you have my earrings."

Weavel's speaker emitted a noise that could only be a chuckle. _"I was wondering when you would ask Commander."_

"Shut up. I don't have much time, Briar is very rightly watching my every move. The jam I placed on the Com in this elevator won't last forever."

_"Then speak quickly."_

"My body is falling apart. I've been noticing weird things, the least of which are my eyes."

_"You're fully addicted now. You will need regular doses to maintain."_

"Shit."

_"I have more Phazon on my ship. Did they bring that too?"_

"Yes, everything in Sacul's shop was taken. Serec is keeping an eye on it."

_"Good, I have enough to keep you happy for a small amount of time. But it will soon take more than I have to keep you feeling sane and sober."_

"My body hasn't stopped aching since we left Rovien." Angseth breathed. "I want to get this military maneuver out of the way soon. We need to find Aran. We need to hurry before my body gives out."

_"So that explains your desperation."_ He folded his arms. _"Why not tell your mate about this?"_

"Because the minute anyone else on this ship gets word of exactly how I'm feeling, my ass will be in the brig, and possibly heavily sedated. I love Briar, but right now I'm torn between him and my mission from the Chozo."

_"He's the Captain of this vessel now, right?"_

"Yes."

_"Then why would he care if you went AWOL again?"_

"Because I promised him that I wouldn't."

_"I am not going to interfere between two lovers. What you have got going is between you and him. I am your dealer, that is all."_

"Dealer?"

_"You didn't think I was going to give you any of that Phazon for free did you?"_

Vera locked her eyes on him. "I am not an addict."

_"Oh?"_ He held aloft one of her earrings. _"You're not?"_

Without thinking, she reached for the small shiny object, he jerked it away quickly, holding it just out of her grasp. "Give it to me!"

_"You're further off than I thought."_ He chuckled.

"Weavel!"

_"Just look at you Captain, no, not even Captain anymore are you? You're just a hyped-up Phazon addict with nothing left but her word."_

Angseth paused in the pursuit of her earring. She expected anger, shame, but at the moment nothing else mattered except the earring.

_"Do you want this?"_ Weavel asked, dangling it once more in front of her face. Her eyes followed it's movements as it swayed. She suddenly grabbed his arm with both hands, and pinned it against the back wall of the elevator. Before Weavel could react, her neck seemed to stretch, then lips and teeth closed around the gemstone. _"Angseth, don't!"_

She bit down, snapping the thin wires holding the stone. With one more movement, she backed away from Weavel, letting go of his arm. Vera dropped the stone from her teeth into her palm. "I'm sorry." She mumbled, as if it would fix what had happened.

Weavel only had himself to blame. He should have known that she would have done something desperate. _"Listen. When we get to the fighter bay, find a place to lie down, or sit or something. The Phazon is going to hit you hard and it would be best if you were alone and stationary when it does."_ He spat.

"You hate me. I know that tone of voice, even if it is digital. You're so accustomed to mistrusting everyone in your life, that you'll turn against me one day."

_"Never. And I don't hate you."_

Vera slid down the side of the elevator, until her butt hit the floor. She wiped at her eyes with the heel of her hand. "I don't know what is going to happen. You're right, I've lost everything, and I'm close to losing Briar too."

_"Private."_ Weavel called.

For the first time in years, she felt like a stranger. This was no longer her ship, even though she knew every last inch of it, her security and sanity had been destroyed. Is this what she really wanted?

Hard yet warm fingers firmly gripped her chin. Weavel tilted her head up until he could look her in the eye. Her formerly warm brown orbs were now cold and hard, ethereal blue almost blending seamlessly into white. _"Let this be the end of the tears. Don't lose your shit around me. I need your help to find Aran. She is the only thing that matters to me right now. I too have lost everything, but I still fight to help those who had cast me out. Because it's the right thing to do."_

Angseth tilted her head to the side. "I can't believe that I didn't see it before. You're in love with her."

_"And so are you."_ He let go and stepped back. _"We are warriors. Some of us lead, some of us follow, but we are still warriors. She helped me to remember that."_ Weavel held the door until Angseth could pick herself up from the floor. _"You have a choice to make. You can either stay here with your ship, or you can come with me to free Aran."_

Angseth slowly made her way to the fighter bay. "I need to think."


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22:**

Weavel sat in the cockpit of his scout ship going over readouts from his primary diagnostics check. Everything appeared to be in working order, nothing seemed to have been tampered with while in Confederate care. His fuel gauge and missile bays were full, and for the first time in a while, he had received a new topcoat of protective sealant on the exterior of his craft. This made his normal drab-colored ship seem shiny and new. The other troops within the bay regarded him curiously and skeptically, as if they expected him to begin a shooting rampage at any moment. If it weren't for Angseth's presence, he would be tempted.

His ship rocked lightly as someone climbed up on the small wing-like protrusion on the side. Weavel was careful not to make any sudden movements that might frighten the Marines when he turned to investigate. It was Angseth, her helmet removed and supposedly coming to give him final instructions on their mission. She had a canister of some kind tucked under her arm, and in her hand she held what looked like a half-eaten sandwich.

"Hey! Weavel!" She called, scaling the small barrier between them before sitting on the edge of the cockpit. "Did my crew do your baby justice?" Vera asked before heartily tearing into her meal.

The cyborg watched her chew, recalling a time when he would descend upon a platter of meat or other foodstuff with equal gusto. Why did she always have to eat around him? Why did everyone have to eat around him, why was it he noticed people eating before he noticed people shooting at him? He missed eating. He missed drinking, he missed feeling pain that wasn't accompanied by a beep. And the Stupid Marine was unconsciously dredging up all of his buried desires.

She unscrewed the lid off the canister and drank from it. At some point she had started talking to him, but Weavel didn't hear. Aran never ate around him. She couldn't even remove the helmet. Was she hungry? Is that why the Hunter attacked with such ferocity? Was she as hungry physically as he was mentally? He knew from experience that energy wasn't as satisfying as the food your instincts craved. Was that why the two of them seemed to get along so well?

"So what do you think?" Vera asked, crumbs from the bread in her hand fell into his cockpit.

Weavel hadn't been paying any attention to her words, so he just said the first thing that came to mind. _"I think you should take your meal and haul it over to your own ship, and then come a talk to me when you're done chewing. It's disgusting watching you humans eat."_

Angseth teasingly ripped another piece of bread from the sandwich, then ran away giggling when he began firing minor tazer bolts at her. He had just settled into his seat when the systems in his ship began to come to life and logged into the Confederation frequencies. Weavel watched as the three others traveling with himself and Angseth logged in and set their status. The cyborg glanced over as the canopy on Angseth's fighter closed and locked. She still held half of her sandwich between her teeth, most of her attention diverted elsewhere. Her engines began to warm, as did the other three accompanying them. It seemed as if the Captain turned Commander didn't want to waste any time. Weavel closed his own canopy and began to warm his engines. Angseth's voice came on audio only.

"Okay everyone, our mission is a very simple one. We will be traveling to these coordinates to intercept a possible Pirate fleet. Your orders are to observe and record the size of the fleet, nothing more."

One of the other three men, Naka, commed in. "Captain…er Commander….whatever, Angseth. May I please address the elephant in the room?"

Her audio switched off and Weavel suddenly had visual of all four of his traveling companions. He never thought in the entirety of his Pirate and Bounty Hunter careers that he would look down at his navigation screen and see four Confederation Marines looking back up at him all marked with "friendly" status. Angseth, predictably was finishing off her sandwich and drink. "Go for it." She said.

"The Pirate?"

"Okay, this is going down on record for anyone who asks this question again. He is no longer a Pirate. For all intents and purposes, he is to be treated as a diplomatic ambassador, with all the same privileges of. I have placed a fair amount of trust in him, and if in the very unlikely chance that Weavel does turn on us, I will personally deal with it." She then quickly added. "The moment one of you gets a missile lock on his ship even in play, I will shoot out your engines."

"Yes Captain."

"Yes Sir."

Angseth smirked. Briar may be in charge of the _Mabus_ now, but she would always be the Captain of the vessel.

The bay doors opened, locking clamps gave way releasing the five ships into space. They pulled into formation as Angseth began barking out last minute orders. It wouldn't be long before they intercepted the fleet, theoretically, they could easily travel there and back without alerting anyone. Only Weavel and Angseth were aware of their secondary mission. They had to destroy the Command Vessel, and then it would be Weavel's job to attempt to turn the fleet.

Vera felt both invigorated and anxious. She had to pull off this mission and come back to the _Mabus_. She didn't want to have another argument like that with Nevada. They loved each other deeply, that was something that would never change, but she needed to regain his trust. And she had to be honest with herself. That was something she had no idea how to pull off effectively. She set her autopilot and sipped the remains of her tea. Xon had delivered her lunch personally. As she had walked through her ship and greeted the commanding officers, she had to wonder how each one had voted to remove her from her post as Captain. Which ones had voted for and against her. When Xon delivered her lunch wrapped in a cloth napkin, she had wondered if the lunch was a token of faith or a peace offering.

_I'm already distrustful and tense enough. It doesn't matter who voted for or against me. I screwed up. I've been screwing up. And I need to pay the price._

_"Angseth."_

She looked down to see a Private com from Weavel. "Hey,"

_"Have you given any thoughts as to how you're going to knock out a command vessel with four fighters?"_

"Four? Aren't you,"

_"No. I will lead you to them, but as I stated, I am not going to help you kill my own people."_

"Weavel, I promise you. I will do everything I can to ensure minimal casualties." She reached for her helmet. Inside the helmet the glowing stone from her earring rolled around grooves in the padding. "If you wish to turn back, I won't stop you. But I can't do this without you."

_"This is distracting from my true mission, to find Aran."_

"When the _Salem_ is safely in our hands, we can repair the jump gate to get to Annubus IV quickly."

_"No jump gate is that powerful."_

"Well, it's better than nothing. Have you got any better ideas? We need the _Salem__'s_ jump gate. We could not be any further away from our objective if we tried."

_"So, you've decided to ditch the fur ball and chase down Aran again?"_

"No,"

_"Then what is your choice Private?"_

"I don't know!"

_"You need to make it soon."_

"I will deal with it when the time comes! I can only handle one disaster at a time!" She paused, studying the cybrog's featureless face in her holo screen. "You better feel lucky that you aren't a part of my crew, you push my buttons so damn much I'd have to give you a promotion just to pick at you more."

Weavel countered. _"So, is that why Briar is now sitting in your chair? You enjoy the beatings so much?"_

"What are you saying?"

_"Nothing, it just appears to me that you have masochistic tendencies. Tell me, how do you walk after spending a night with a full-blooded Mahesian?"_

After so many years, Angseth had wondered if she had lost the ability to blush. After Weavel's blunt comment she felt her cheeks begin to burn. Her finger shook nervously as she tapped the screen. "That is none of your damn…business."

_"Thorny subject?"_

When the burn became bad enough she blurted out. "You're just jealous!" She closed the line, then folded her arms. After a moment of deliberation she tugged her helmet on, but not before making sure the stone was safely tucked inside near her cheek. She didn't know why she had decided to keep it in her helmet, but it had been a part of her earring, so it made sense that she would want to keep it close to her head. She had been doing a lot of weird things lately. The Phazon had made her thoughts loose and hard to keep hold of. How would she knock out the Command Vessel? Without more information she wouldn't be able to create a plan of attack.

_Weavel, I really hope you don't back out on me._

"Captain we have the Pirate fleet in sight." Naka's voice said suddenly over her com line.

Angseth felt her muscles tense as her holographic interface began lighting up with scans of the fleet. As much as she hated to admit it, Weavel had been right. The _Mabus_ would not be enough to attack a fleet of this size. From this one point she could count five heavy cruisers each equipped with more firepower than three confederation ships combined. "Stay just out of range of their scanners, and gather as much information as you can." The situation had become what she had feared. There would be no way to fight them without much blood spilled on either side. Gamma fleet wasn't just coming to overtake the _Salem_, they were coming to erase it. Somehow the fleet had to be turned.

Her com flickered on. She glanced over to see Weavel's flat shiny featureless yellow mask staring at her, as if challenging her to react. He had only opened the line, but didn't say anything. For one long tense minute, Angseth stared at him, as if she could reach into his mind and pull her solution away from him. Finally he spoke. _"The command ship is the large one near the center of the fleet. It has several escort ships near it. Can you see it?"_

Angseth checked her scans again. "Yes. Weavel I need you be certain, if the command vessel is taken out, then you have a chance of turning the fleet?"

_"A chance, nothing more."_

That wasn't what she wanted to hear. She didn't like leaving so much in one person's hands. If anything, she would gladly take that burden from him if she could. The fleet needed to be turned. The _Salem_, and all of her family aboard the _Mabus_ would die if it didn't. For a moment she leaned back in her seat, until her helmet rested on the storage compartment behind her back. The Sigel was still in there, with a fresh round of clips compliments of her stay with the Chozo.

_The Sigel…_

That gun had been made for use with mechanized power suits, and packed quite a punch…enough of a punch to blast the hull of a ship wide open…considering if she got close enough to one. She slowly sat up, turning in her seat to fix her gaze on the flat gray paneling behind her. She weighed her options, and the most desperate approach seemed to be the best bet. Tearing into the Pirate fleet with her pitiful scouting party would be suicide. They would see them and open so many guns on her that Confederation craft would be rendered to space dust. But Weavel had a Pirate craft…and knowledge of the procedures of the fleet. Angseth suddenly pulled the panel open, shoved aside her emergency supplies and kit, then popped the lid on her secret compartment.

She had finally found a use for the sleeping beast.

The Sigel slid out easily in zero gravity, and hovered near the ceiling. She then removed two clips of the Sigel's standard ammunition. Each clip held five rounds, each roughly the size of a beer can and with enough of an incendiary charge to pass through just about anything. The Sigel could also tap into her suit's internal power supply, and that could either amplify the standard rounds, or create a high-intensity beam to burn objects in its path. The biggest setback to using the Sigel in battle was the recoil on the weapon. Once long ago the thing had shattered her collar bone to the point of needing a surgical replacement, and that was after it had launched both her and Briar one hundred yards away from her starting point. If she were to use the thing, she would either need to find some really steady walls, or some other method of anchoring herself down. Angseth pulled a set of five sticky mines from the storage compartment before closing it. She loaded those into a clip at her waist before reaching for the Sigel. Vera's hand stopped suddenly, and she looked down near her feet, a smile spreading over her lips.

Every fighter came equipped with docking cables in the event that one needed to anchor the craft to a surface or structure when docking clamps were not present. They were almost a joke, and served to entertain the pilots more than fill a need. One of her former commanders had said that using these docking cables to anchor a craft was a lot like using thread to bind a prisoner. The docking cable system consisted of two units. Each unit was then composed of two pieces. The larger of the pieces was a round object that would feed off the energy of the ship, and use it to create a beam-field, similar to a grapple beam but with more intensity. The other smaller piece called a "lock bolt" was then attached to the docking surface. Two units were usually needed. One for the front, and one for the back of the ship. The main generator of the unit had a small button near the top that would retract the lock bolt when pressed. They would do quite nicely as anchoring points when she needed to fire the Sigel.

Vera pulled the units out of their storage case, then took a moment to affix one to each side of her waist. It didn't take long for her suit to register and update the power configuration to accommodate. She took a few more seconds to opt for her suit to remotely control the bolts. With a command, they would fire and attach to the first surface they encountered. If she was lucky she could get a few good shots in on the commanding officer of this portion of Gamma Fleet. Hopefully that would give Weavel enough time to pull rank and get them to turn around.

_What if the Commanding Officer is Ridley himself?_

Angseth paused in light of this new realization. Well…if it was Ridley, then she had a few questions to ask him about the _Seattle_. That answer seemed to satisfy her.

The Sigel locked onto her forearm nicely, the Luminoth had crafted a bracket and attachment pieces specifically for her pride and joy. It had two positions, a resting or carrying position on her bicep, and the active position on her forearm. All she had to do was straighten her arm and the Sigel would slide up a track and lock into either position. Minor gravity fields also helped her maintain balance and posture. She sat back down once her preparations had been made, and opened up the com to her troops and Weavel.

"I've got an idea. You three hang back here and keep gathering data. Weavel, I need your help."

_"I've already told you where I stand."_

"And you don't have to fire one shot for what I have in mind." She punched in a few codes. "Naka, you're the best pilot with me, so I've slaved my ship to yours. Take care of my baby." Slaving a ship essentially put its guidance and combat systems in control of another fighter pilot. Only the most skilled could use two fighters simultaneously. "Weavel, I just need you to fly by that command ship. What you do after that is up to you." She made sure her helmet was locked in tightly and pressurized. With the Sigel firmly in place, she opened the canopy on her fighter, exposing the interior to space.

_"What are you doing?"_ Weavel asked.

Vera grabbed the edge of her cockpit, then assumed her Morph Ball form. When wearing her power suit, her Morph Ball form looked more like Aran's. Solid with a glowing seam up the middle, but still with those twin captain's bars. Angseth had experimented a little with the "spider ball" technique while running around the _Mabus_. While she couldn't stick to every surface, it did fill her with glee to know that she could roll along the ceiling in her room. She rolled along the exterior of her fighter, and down one wing. The canopy closed behind her. "I'm going to bomb-jump to your craft and stick to the exterior. When you fly by the command ship, I'll jump off."

_"I had suspicions that the Phazon had affected your better judgment, now they're confirmed."_ Nonetheless, Weavel maneuvered his scout ship close enough. A small spark seemed to ignite at the black ball's base, and then it left the safety of the wing, traveled through twenty feet of open space before touching the wing on Weavel's craft. Angseth tried to slow her forward momentum, but hit a small protrusion on the wing and bounced upward, back into space. Weavel brought his ship up until she touched the wing again. Even though Angseth clung to the wing with all the power she could muster in her Morph Ball form, the Aura of Weavel's craft disrupted her own field. That meant that Weavel had to fly as evenly as possible or she would roll off one side or the other and end up in open space. _"Find a niche or something to hold onto, I can't do a balancing act and still look natural."_

Angseth rolled until she found a grove to help her stay stationary. This was scary, but still fun. Ei-Aier had been right, the Morph Ball was space worthy, but she wouldn't want to test it's limits.

Weavel kept on eye on the ball and carefully moved forward toward the fleet. He raised all appropriate shields and responded to the many hails he received. These were companions, friends. He wanted to believe that he could make a difference in their lives, and here he was betraying them. He passed in the shadow of battleships, joined fighter groups, and for a moment relived old glories and memories of successful raids. Would raiding still be a part of his life? Would he remain alive long enough to see his people settled and happy? Despite all the wiring and synthetic organs contained in his central core, he felt a glimmer of hope. He had always thought that Hope was a deceptive thing with sharp teeth. It lured one in and then attacked when you were at your most vulnerable. But this time was different. He would see it through. He would live long enough to see the Siafu safe and successful.

_Well, well, well…It's been a long time Weavel. Get lonely?_

Weavel slammed on his reverse thrusters, rocking Angseth from her place and almost sending her rolling off the nose of his craft.

"What the hell was that for?!" Vera demanded.

_"Ridley. He's here."_

"How do you know that?"

Weavel began opening and running every last scan and firewall he had available to his circuits. _"He just spoke to me. I can't go any further. I'm sorry."_

"Why can't you go?"

_"I don't want to get hacked and jeopardize everything."_ Weavel was frantic.

_Where are you Weavel? I can practically smell you._ Ridley cooed.

Weavel banked left and headed for the nearest wing of fighters. When he felt Ridley's presence leave, only then did he venture to open the com line again. _"We need to turn back now. There is no way that you can attack Ridley and live."_

"I need to. Take me there now!"

_"I can't do it, platoons of Confederate troops can't, Aran can't do it, even legions of Chozo cower before that freak! I am not going back to the __Mabus__ empty handed just to have your boyfriend hack my head off because I let you do something so stupid!"_ The cyborg was practically screaming. He didn't know why he yelled. He wasn't supposed to care about what this Stupid Marine did to threaten her own life. But the silence at the other end of the line let him know how pissed she was.

The craft rocked slightly. Weavel checked his rear scanners to find Angseth's little Morph Ball self, drifting off into space toward another Pirate fighter. She stuck to it like a little black bug, finding another spot to entrench herself. Weavel watched with envy and amazement as she carefully leap-frogged her way from fighter to fighter, rolling along the exterior of larger vessels, jumping back over to smaller ships, before finally reaching the command ship. Her small spherical form dropped off his scanners and visual as she penetrated the Aura of the command vessel.

* * *

Angseth finally touched down on the main command ship, and began rolling. Now that she had made it inside the Aura, she could move around almost undetected. She discovered this tactic during the week of final exams in Orion Central Command. She had led a team of five others to a target ship, picked the airlock and peacefully overtook the bridge. She hoped that this tactic would work in a real-life scenario and not just in a training exercise.

The Pirate ship was huge, easily bigger than the _Mabus_, and more heavily armed. She didn't pause to think about what she was about to do, and if she had, then the follow up thought would be _if Samus can do it, then so can I._ Vera couldn't scan in Morph Ball form, so she needed to rely on gut instinct to find the bridge. If she could knock out the bridge, then getting into the ship would be much easier. Like the _Mabus_, this ship wouldn't have the bridge located near the outer hull. It would be deeper inside, not quite clear to the center of the ship, but near the upper decks. It took her several minutes to reach the front of the vessel, dodging cannons and external sensors. She paused for a moment to pop out of her Morph Ball form, scanned the area and gathered information on her location. She crouched back down again and began rolling. The bridge was located several decks higher.

Angseth stopped again, flipped out of her Ball form, and stood scanning the alloy at her feet. This was the spot. Now or never. She adopted a low, almost kneeling stance, and the device on her hip gave a soft buzzing sound before launching the pair of energy tethered docking clamps to either side of her. At the ends of their sparking blue lines, the clamps revved once signaling that Angseth was firmly secured to her spot, as she would be on virtually any other terrain. She pulled one of the clips for the Sigel from a storage compartment on her thigh and gently, lovingly, inserted it into the Sigel. The cannon began to hum with power. Without thinking about it, Angseth tilted her head to the right, then suddenly snapped it back, dislodging the small Phazon stone from the side of her helmet. The stone rolled along the inside before she caught it with her tongue and teeth. She grinned wickedly as her lips closed around it, bringing it fully into her mouth.

Vera swallowed the small glowing stone. The high was instantaneous. The world had become bright and blue and burning and beautiful. She flexed her arm and the Sigel slid forward along it's track, locking into the firing position. She lowered it, pointing the business end at the ship giggling madly as she squeezed the trigger and fired the first of many bone-shattering shots from the Sigel. The force of the blast caused the docking cables at her waist to strain and pull more power from her armor to compensate for the increase in force. Her shoulder and back bore the majority of the recoil**.**

The outer hull didn't bow inward, or peel, or show any other signs of blunt trauma. No, the first shell caused the alloy to melt, the impact sent ripples along the metal creating a ripple effect along the hull. When the shell met the atmosphere and oxygen inside the ship, _then_ it exploded. By the grace of the gods, Angseth withdrew the lock bolt on her left hip, and rolled to the right, clinging to the outer hull as the hole she had just blown exploded outward into the eternal vacuum of space, taking the charred remains of several Pirates with it. When the smoke cleared, she carefully peeked over the molten metal and into a small scorched hall that led to the bridge. Vera calmly pulled a sticky mine from her waist, and threw it into the hall, then retreated back to the outer hull as another explosion sent more bodies and debris into space. Once that cleared, she pulled up her remaining lock bolt, then entered the ship confidently, having already taken care of most of the token resistance. Those that were left were either doomed to suffocate or were trying to escape. She allowed them to. Weavel would never forgive her if she shot them in cold blood.

The first thing Angseth noticed was how dark it was inside the Pirate ship. They seemed to have no interior lighting, or even guide lights to lead around corners. A field had snapped shut behind her, keeping what little of the atmosphere that remained contained in the ship. Everywhere she looked there were only dark corners with the occasional glow of holo screens. The door to the bridge had been blown clean open by the sticky mine, scattering the twenty or so souls on the other side. Vera left them alone unless they fired on her. A second door led from the back of the bridge to another short hall. She extended her arm and the Sigel slid back up to the carrying position. Before opening the door, she stopped at a nearby computer terminal, and downloaded a map of the ship. If Weavel was right, and she had no reason to doubt him, Ridley would be on this vessel. If the dragons tactics from the past held true, then he would waste no time in sending legions of Pirates after her. This created a problem because she promised Weavel that she would try not to kill anyone unless it was necessary. Above all else, Ridley needed to be stopped.

"Well, that'll be easy." She turned to the same computer terminal. Angseth was never a very good hacker, she could barely code the most basic of search programs, let alone manipulate entire databases to submit to her whim. But there was another thing that she excelled at. Communications. Coms had been her weapon of choice since she had first signed up with the Marines, and as Briar had once put it, she could make the system do backflips. Pirate technology was fun because it was usually a mess of various hard and software from many races. _Hmm…what would be the fastest way to clear the ship?_

After a moment she began tapping away at the holo keys. The first thing she did was block off all communication to and from the engine room. Then sent a message _from_ the engine room to a secondary command station. The bridge was normally used to keep the ship running. The rest of the decisions came from another place where they handled the paperwork. With the bridge knocked out, all command would fall on the secondary post. The message made a comment about a sudden flux in the engines, and possible radioactive contamination in the air system. She didn't bother to put a security stamp on the message, so whoever wanted to could peek in on it. Without the ability to speak to anyone from the engine room, they couldn't confirm the authenticity of the message. She gave it ten minutes before the grunts and subsequent commanders began running for life pods. The message was a digital equivalent of a fire alarm.

Having finished with the terminal, she turned toward the door at the back of the bridge, and opened it. Before her she saw a short hall with three closed hatches leading away in three different directions. Each door required a different method to open, a different colored field ran around the exterior of each door, indicating what kind of signal would open it. Vera checked her maps, and groaned when she saw the twisting mazes and dungeons that lay in wait behind each door. Ridley's main lair was located several decks down.

_Screw this._

Angseth slid the Sigel down into the firing position, launched the lock bolts to anchor points on the walls, and then pointed the Sigel at the floor. She stood for a full thirty seconds charging the most powerful shot she had yet into the shell. She fired, giggling as the blast went through one, two, and three decks, creating a jagged hole leading down at an angle. After adjusting her visor for near-dark conditions, she called the lock bolts back, slid the Sigel back to it's carrying position, then jumped down into the crater she had just made. Vera passed through the next two decks, and landed on the scorched metal of the third in a kneeling position. The metal began to groan and shift under her weight, then collapsed to the fourth deck**.**

The Marine held tightly to the metal, when her fall was broken by something soft and crunchy. A quick scan of the room revealed the Pirates she had been looking for, roughly ten of them, lightly armored and obviously not meant for intense combat. She activated her external com device. "One warning. Leave now, or I will kill all of you."

Two directly before her fired their weapons. The Phazon suddenly took hold, pushing her aggression and frustration to new heights. Angseth sprang into the thickest part of the group, simultaneously firing small pulse shots with the Sigel, as well as cutting the Pirates down with her energy blade. In retrospect, it was a slaughter; she had been completely unchallenged by their pitiful resistance. When she finally gained control over her anger, Vera took a moment to wipe the Pirate gore from her visor, then checked her map.

She currently stood in a circular room with four doors leading away in different directions. The door directly before her would be Ridley's chamber. Not wanting to waste time, she slid the Sigel back to the firing position, and loaded another shell. Angseth wasn't going to give the scaly bastard a chance. He was strong, and she would be lucky to survive ten seconds in his presence. The panel on the side of the door suddenly changed color from red to green. The door had been unlocked, presumably from the inside. So he was expecting her, then again, who wouldn't be after the way she had burst into the ship?

Angseth stepped through with the Sigel at the ready. Her boots sounded against hollow metal before touching…stone?

Yes, stone, black marble to be precise. Her night vision visor struggled to compensate for the sudden light all around her. She scrolled through until her HUD locked on her standard display. She never expected to find a room like this on a Pirate ship. The floor and walls were black marble. In the center of the room was a large oval executive meeting table with several chairs upholstered in black hide, perhaps from some kind of snake or even alligator-like creature. Over the table hovered a hologram of the ship, depicting detailed schematics of its inner workings. Not only this ship was displayed, but also several command screens from other ships in the fleet. In the back corner of the room stood an honest-to-goddess jukebox, complete with little bubble-lights traveling up the side and over the top in an arch, changing color as they moved. The room filled with music, what kind and which song she would never be able to guess. Something about "blue velvet." Briar would know. The song was haunting yet pleasant, yet not even this was the end of surprises.

Captain Henry Thomas sat near the far end of the table, booted feet resting on the black shiny surface. Placed on the table directly before him was a fluted glass filled with some white concoction topped with whipped cream and a cherry, sitting on top of a folded lace napkin. Next to the glass was a frosted stainless steel cup with more of the white thick substance inside. As she entered he removed his feet from the table, and picked up the glass, inserting a red and white striped straw down through the whipped cream. "A straw will get some of it, but the rest of the milkshake is best eaten with a spoon." He said casually before sipping it.

The record stopped and Angseth spun, as the jukebox pulled the black disk off the turntable, and replaced it with another.

"Ah! One of my favorites, Eartha Kit's rendition of 'Mack the Knife'. Gotta love that woman's voice." He said before taking another sip.

Angseth felt her right arm waver, then slowly drop from her ready position. Thomas took another sip, then as promised, pulled a long silver spoon from his pocket, and began to eat his milkshake with it. _Why is Thomas on a Pirate ship?_ The door slid shut behind her. Vera tried desperately to gain some kind of grip on the situation.

"_Oh the shark has, pretty teeth dear,"_

Thomas popped the cherry into his mouth.

_"And he shows them, pearly white."_

He stood, circling to the far side of the table. Angseth readied the Sigel, and moved to the right, trying to keep Thomas in view. Thomas began to casually close down holo screens. Angseth watched him casually circle the table, setting down his milkshake and spoon on a coaster. Thomas then pulled a pair of simple fingerless gloves from his jacket pocket, and slipped them on. Angseth scanned the gloves, and they weren't made of anything she could detect. Why was Thomas here?

Thomas turned, the smirk on his face more pronounced. Once again he looked like anything but a twenty year-old human.

Vera's mind searched every experience she had ever survived, every piece of information that she had ever heard. Why would Thomas work with Ridley? Weavel would not have lied to her! What would he gain from it? Thomas's eyes. So blue, so unnaturally blue, even through the filter of Phazon. Very blue, and very intelligent.

Angseth wrestled with the one thought that came to the fore of her mind. But she didn't want to believe it. She didn't want to start thinking that Thomas himself could possibly be in league with Ridley. It didn't make any sense, yet made too much sense. She circled the table, keeping it between herself and Thomas and activated all scans, searching. Thomas smiled, amused.

Angseth bumped into the jukebox, and it shut off. Before her on the table sat his milkshake. She and Thomas had reversed positions. Now she was the one on the far side of the room, and Thomas was by the door. Finally enough breath came back for her to ask. "What are you doing here Thomas?"

He laughed, as if astounded by her ignorance. "You mean you honestly don't know? Your condition must be worse off than I thought. Where has that sharp-witted spitfire of a Captain gone that I met back on Syren I? All I see before me now is an aggressive, frustrated, bull dyke. You seem unbalanced Captain, and it's not just the presence of the ungodly phallic instrument attached to your arm….Hmm, things not going so well between you and the furball?"

Angseth knew that he was trying to make her angry, and even her knowledge of his tactics wasn't enough to fight the beast. She wanted to blame it on the Phazon, but knew better. This was her frustration, and even if Thomas wasn't working for Ridley, at least she wouldn't need to go far to find him and then throw him into the brig along with Svenson. She jumped, landing on the table and upsetting Thomas's milkshake. Vera ran, and for a moment the smooth black surface bore a perfect reflection of her armor-clad body before her fist connected with Thomas's jaw.

Thomas's head snapped back and his heels left the floor. His body hit the office door with such force that he passed through the metal, flew across the circular room beyond, and into the opposite hall before rolling and resting amidst slain Pirate corpses. Angseth righted herself, then stepped through the door, slowly yet purposefully. If Ridley wasn't here, then Thomas would do as a nice distraction. Although she had to admit that she didn't expect him to be so…tough. Any normal human would be unconscious or dead from a hit like that. She left the bright office behind her and stepped into the darkened ship. She scanned the bodies briefly, then felt her defenses rise when she set eyes on Thomas.

Thomas sat against the far wall, completely intact without even a bruise to show for Angseth's attack. She moved carefully, keeping the Sigel charged with a pulse beam and ready to fire. What was this kid made out of? Scans still revealed nothing. Thomas pulled himself to his feet, and then brushed some of the dust off his shoulder and sleeve. He coughed once, clearing his throat. "That was your only free hit Angseth. My shattered code of honor requires that you have some idea of what you are up against before I formally fight."

"Thanks," Angseth trained the Sigel on his head. She fired, then became suddenly aware of her inability to breathe. Her stomach and chest had exploded with sudden pain. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Thomas's grinning lips. Further examination revealed his fist buried deeply near her solar plexus. She had never seen him move. Her body slumped over his firm arm. How could he do that? He wasn't wearing any kind of armor! Just his uniform and those stupid gloves!

"Sloppy, yet passionate Captain," he whispered.

She coughed up one word. "Frak you."

"Not now, not here."

Angseth hissed through her teeth, then brought the Sigel around, crossing it over her chest. She loaded another beer-can sized shell from the clip, and placed the muzzle against the bottom of Thomas' jaw. The Sigel bucked as she fired. She didn't bother to charge the shot, but it still did more than enough damage. She collapsed to the ground, knocked over by the recoil. Her arm ached terribly from the kickback, which was impressive considering that it was the cybernetic one. If she had the Sigel mounted on her left arm, it would most likely have been broken from the force of the blow. She stood and looked around for splattered bits of Thomas. No one, she didn't care who or what they were, could have survived an uppercut point-blank shot from the Sigel. Instead of finding Thomas in paste form, she instead saw holes caused by his body passing through the ceiling. His body rebounded off the ceiling two decks later, then came to rest on his stomach**.**

Vera quickly activated her boosters and passed through the holes. Thomas was already on his feet by the time she arrived. She formed an energy blade at his fingers, anticipating close combat. Thomas darted in, and gave her a quick, almost playful tap, distracting her while he delivered a more powerful blow to her leg. Every hit, every touch he landed on her made her more angry. She blindly tried for a hit with her blade, missing anything vital but ripping his shirt in the process. She followed that up with a kick, and sent him through another wall. She threw out a lock bolt, and fired another shell**.** Thomas suddenly tucked in close, and kicked the barrel of the Sigel upwards, taking out the ceiling and clearing the path to two more floors.

As she moved to withdraw the lock-bolt, Thomas back flipped high into the air, and came down on her back. The sheer power and force in his attack vibrated her entire being. Her back popped as muscle compensation in the armor locked up to prevent the oncoming hard trauma. Her HUD displayed nothing but static as her body became lose, and it seemed as if every bone left in her had broken suddenly. Vera didn't have time to react as all breath left her once more and her body slammed into and through the floor, then passed through a wall on the lower deck. Her HUD flickered back to life and for the moment she remained still, looking up through the jagged holes depicting a straight-shot to Thomas's idiots grin. _I just…went through a wall…?_

The Pirate ship was not a weak one, and even though she never really thought about it before, decks were not easy things to pass through. They were boundaries, limits, not things meant to be broken. Thomas jumped down to join her.

"No doubt you were wondering why you are still breathing. Yes? Good." He grabbed the collar of her power suit and pulled her upright. "Well, I guess I'll let you in on a little secret. I know about your Phazon addiction. Sad to say, but I am the one who discovered it." He punched her again, this time aiming for her helmet. Her HUD registered cracks. "These gloves are made of a high-grade Phazon polymer, of my own invention. This turns the tables greatly in my favor. You see, every time I hit you, you get a Phazon buzz. Therefore, you will always come back for more, then allow me to hit you again so you can get your fix." He suddenly let go, then ducked low, double-punching her in the stomach, and sending her body through four more walls, considerably weaker than the floor she had passed through. Angseth used this moment to somehow gain her feet, and prepare to retaliate against his next blow.

But he was right. When she could have followed up with a kick, or even an attack from the Sigel, she paused. Her body frozen as he came in close and decked her again. This time she could tell. She could feel the passage of the Phazon from his hands to her body. _What are you? You are not a human._ His next impact sent her through another wall. Her armor had become cracked and flaked away in layers. His hits were starting to cause more impact trauma to her flesh.

"Come on now, you haven't even struck me once!" He taunted her. Angseth pulled herself to her feet once more, then stood, yet unable to defend herself against another blow. A smile curled over her lips. It felt good. There was something so blissfully wonderful about getting smacked around. Her body was beginning to recover from the initial pounding, her reflexes became faster and it was now easier to track Thomas's moves. The Phazon her instincts craved was now in full effect.

Thomas came in for another attack, but this time Vera caught his fist, relishing in the feel of the Phazon rushing over her palm and up her arm. Thomas smiled, his eyes predatory and lips curled in a sneer. "That's my girl." Angseth grabbed his arm, then held him, simultaneously bringing the Sigel around, and slamming the barrel of the large cannon into his head. Thomas pitched to his left and fell sideways with the curl of the Sigel's impact but neatly landed on his palm. He spun his inverted body swiftly, and threw a heel upward at Angseth, burying his foot in her gut, and sending her through another ceiling. Angseth felt the grating of another hall meet her back. The lock bolts suddenly activated and flew out in opposite directions, leaving her suspended like a puppet over the hole. Thomas looked up and promptly burst out laughing at seeing this Marine dangle listlessly overhead.

Angseth grunted, then activated her gravity boots, magnetizing herself to the ceiling of he corridor she was trapped in. She stood, fully locked in place and looking down at Thomas during his gut busting laughter. The dock clamp malfunction ruse had the desired effect. She had just enough time to energize the last shell of the first magazine for about three seconds, then fired it on him at point-blank range**.** Thomas looked upward in time to take the shot in the face, and proceeded to cannonball backwards through four more decks…and almost through the fifth.. Vera calmly cast the spent magazine away, then rammed her second one into the slot.

The remaining pirates in the deck below Thomas could not help but pause in their flight to safety and marvel at the spectacle of his dangling upper torso, as he hung halfway through a foot of ripped, corrugated metal and frayed wires. He coughed a few times, shook the debris from his hair and glared up at his onlookers. He then spat a crimson gob of froth from his lips as he interjected, "Get your miserable carcasses off this ship, if you idiots know what's good for you." Thomas then rolled himself backwards along his spine and up onto his hands, revealing the horrifying silhouette of Angseth dropping down through the ripped floors in pursuit and finally prompted the pirate soldiers to continue on their route to convenient escape pods.

The last attack had knocked a bit of the wind from Thomas' sails, but he did manage to roll back to his feet and spin around for a swift backhand toward Angseth when she landed behind him, Sigel charged and ready with another slug. A subtle clatter issued to either side of her as he spun, and Thomas he was too slow in his response. Angseth purposely aimed for the kids approaching hand, knocking it back around in the opposite direction and tearing a pained "GAGH!" from his throat**.** He sensed her taking aim again, and knew that since she was already tethered it would not be long before she found her next target. He immediately followed up with a second punch, this time an uppercut, and was still surprised when this attack was also met with a nullifying Sigel shot**.** His knuckles were the only thing that saved his gut that time, and he skidded backwards into, but not through, the wall behind him. Now this tactic of Angseths was beginning to play on Thomas' nerves, his only reaction was the frustrated gritting of teeth as he advanced again.

"I finally found something that _hurts_ you." Angseth was steady now, when firmly anchored in place she could fire shots at a much heartier tempo, and she could read Thomas enough to know that he would feign his next punch and follow up with an elbow. So, naturally, that is what she shot at, and now she was very much enjoying herself**.**

"BITCH!" was all Thomas allowed himself time to say after he whirled around several times from the last impact, reoriented himself and proceeded with a sideways chop. This too found a Sigel shot, and in turn added to the devastation around Thomas by ricocheting along the corridor behind him and detonating a few yards back. A few fleeing pirates painted the walls during this last explosion, but the now enraged Thomas paid his unfortunate victims no mind as he leapt at Angseth with hands outspread**.**

Angseth had not moved more than a few inches during her attackers assault, but now she did. Disengaging and retracting the docking clamps, she growled and jumped forward at Thomas with all her strength while charging the final Sigel shot. Though she did not fire this final shot just yet, she closed the distance between them both sooner than Thomas had anticipated, and that alone saved Angseths skull from being smashed between his fists. She simultaneously drove her helmet directly into his chest, carrying him back a good distance into the sparking wreckage behind him, and also followed up the rush by bulleting a Phazon charged fist into his stomach.

Thomas vomited the moment his body became sandwiched between a rocky Phazon fist and a hard sparking net terminal in the wall. The consistency was, of course, a thin wash of whiteness with healthy chunks of cherry within it. He was quite stunned after being pinned though still conscious and aware. He didn't understand the awesome danger of the situation he was in until he realized the ringing in his ear this entire time was coming from the Sigel and not his rattled brain. The gun had been charging the whole time.

"You're welcome." Angseth stated simply, before ramming the barrel of the Sigel directly into Thomas' crotch with a soft thud and fired with conviction. The blast separated them abruptly, sending Angseth merely across the room skidding on her heels and Thomas crashing through no less than three walls. Three walls for Thomas this time only because unsuspecting pirate flesh slowed his flight. He landed limply atop crushed and twitching exoskeletons, a healthy trail of gray smoke issuing up from between his legs.

Angseth pushed herself off the cracked wall she had slid into and carefully regained her feet. It felt good to put the springy bastard in his place, and she did grin shamelessly as she walked through the debris toward her victim's fallen body. Though she did manage to get the upper hand in the last bout, she could not bring herself to disengage the empty magazine on her Sigel, it would finalize things too quickly. No, she had to make sure it was done, had to make sure this twerp was finally down. There was no way Thomas could be a regular human being, certainly not after having endured a beating like this. The scans indicated that his body was entirely human, and no human psychic on record was capable of mentally shielding or toughening their body to that degree. There was a slightly abnormal density to the carbon compound of his organic composition, but other than that his organs, blood and general DNA seemed normal. Thomas didn't even have any cybernetics to speak of, none at all, so Angseth was at a loss as to whatever the hell was going on with this boy.

The Sigel leveled on the forehead of her enemy; Angseth still pondered the math of the kid's physical prowess. It just didn't add up in the slightest, and even though the gloves were lined with active Phazon fragments they weren't strong enough to protect his entire body. She began to charge her Sigel with primary suit power for the shot that would end it all, "I am _really_ going to have to rail Dr. Bearn for those autopsy reports, kid. Good rid—"

Firing early, her Sigel blasted a ragged hole not in the wall in front of Angseth but the ceiling above her. As fragments of plasteel rained down around her, Angseth stumbled backward and looked upon the force that had deflected her point-blank shot moments before it fired. A long, black beak with glistening black feathers at its base, now jutted from Thomas' face and pointed in her direction. Larger, bluer, more vibrant eyes than moments before stabbed forth from the bloom of small shimmering black feathers. The blue of his eyes intensified as the debris fell around them; blue as the universes hottest suns, blue as the Phendrana glacier depths, the blue of pure insanity, burning around their microscopic pupils. Thomas stood slowly yet deliberately as Angseth continued to stumble, and though his body darkened ominously as it rose and skewed to a taller shape, he kept his violent blue eyes on hers and made no sound. The damaged light in the corridor finally gave and now illuminated the area with infrequent sparks, but the blue remained there in the bleakness.

"No, baby. The doo-wop just started. We can get to the naughty stuff later." The morphing boy suddenly proclaimed in a singing tone as the last of the debris fell around them. Angseth gasped as he took a step forward on lengthening legs and his fancy boot exploded with a quiet pop, only to have the fabric and flesh suddenly rewind in time and glow as it reformed into a gleaming, black set of avian talons. Flesh also began to tear and spray into brilliant, black feathers on Thomas' face as he tipped his head down on a downy, muscular neck, beaming and smiling at Angseth with a beak that sharpened and cracked with silver patterns. The boy turned avian now moved with an eerily fluid grace slowly toward Angseth, who stood transfixed before this impossible event, Sigel leveled shakily. She could feel her Phazon aura shielding against the evil wind directly in front of her, but her frustrated growl did not betray the fear that began to rise from within, "…Siairus…" She said flatly.

The avian was a blur. First to the ceiling somehow, then below and to the right, then nowhere at all and with little more noise than a single eggshell-like crackle in the fallen debris. "Your last word, my dear Captain Mervera Diane Angseth," this from mere inches behind her, a voice like a hand crafted violin. "Certainly the most appropriate, poetic, melodious and beautiful choice you could possibly make in one warm breath. That is no longer my name however. You may call me, _Ridley._"

Her fear swirling inside her, Angseth held the air in her lungs, and for all her life could neither move nor stop the shiver moving through her spine and into her limbs. She was also aware enough in her terror to register that the voice was close behind her yet somehow getting closer. She could not get a bead on where exactly Ridley was or what his orientation could be, this "check mate" effectively spelled her doom in any direction. A soft purr of "Hmmmm?" came not from behind but somehow a few inches from her jaw, and she risked a glance in the sparky gloom. They stood back-to-back now, the bastard had draped his elongated neck over her shoulder and now rested his large, black eagle-like head upside down on her breastplate while he grinned and beamed up at her. She spun on her heel, fight or flight instincts having taken over. Angseth barely registered the flash of Ridley's taloned fingers swiftly tracing intricate glowing symbols in the air, when two highly concentrated beams slammed into her chest, once of solid electricity, the other of ice.

The boy turned Chozo cawed his laughter into the narrow corridor loudly, like a nightmarishly oversized raven gone bad. "So sorry to burst your neat little bubble, darling! I was just wondering how creative you'd get with those cute little dense-world bullets of yours!" Angseth did not know she had been hit with concentrated, elemental waves but her systems were going haywire and she was cold inside her suit. She hardly gave her HUD time to reestablish itself before she shook chunks of ice from her limbs, snapped into a kneeling stance and aimed her gun into the laughing darkness. Once her display layout had come completely back online, Angseth quickly scrolled through her visor frequencies for infra-red while trying to listen for possible danger over her own shivering breath.

"Where are you Siairus?" She growled, finally having come upon her low light spectrum of vision and finding nothing revealing in the ragged hall. She stood as fast as she could and began to search her surroundings, but the source of the laughter always seemed to be just outside of her peripheral sight.

"Vera," he suddenly cooed from somewhere to her right, more like a hushed scolding, "Don't be so obtuse. I've already told you to address me as Ridley! I'm sure it's ever so much easier for your species to pronounce, hmm?"

A frighteningly tall, humanoid shaped figure posed in the corridor directly in front of Angseth, with long, taloned fingers outspread on either side. With a sharp gasp, she fired a rapid volley of energy shots at the apparition, but his speed while dodging each attack was unreal. The shimmer of feathers and death blue orbs of his eyes flashed brighter as each bolt missed him by centimeters. He drew closer. "No, how very sad Vera! The logic hasn't sunk in yet, hmm? No, I just haven't been crystal, clear enough, have I?" The avian sang as he closed the distance, "You need a much better look, yes?"

Angseths rage now found the will to surface, and she immediately used it to fuel the fires of her Phazon fist. Before she could swing at the definite presence just in front of her, three different things seemed to happen all at once. Her arms were both knocked out to either side of her, something took hold of her helmet and yanked her several feet forward, and finally another glowing glyph was traced in the air at the bottom of her vision just before an elemental blast propelled her upward. She demolished a number of the ships decks as she passed through them before finally halting on the ceiling of a corridor. She bounced off the ceiling and fell to the floor, landing just shy of her entry hole. Coughing violently, Angseth slowly rolled to her side and up onto her arms, pulling her head up to find herself bathed in firelight. She pulled herself to her knees, and rolled the visor back through to the normal spectrum. The fire was behind her, casting light over her shoulder and sucking away the oxygen in the hall. What waited in the corridor ahead of her was most unwelcome; the now fully illuminated Chozo demon propped casually against a wall, arms folded, legs crossed with a devilish smile curling along his honed beak.

The one who called himself Ridley wore clean, polished, pleated leather pants, worn tight enough to reveal significant definition in the avian's legs. The pants terminated just below his flexed calves, leaving his black, scaled, barbed ankles and taloned avian feet bare. The loosely worn, gray, cotton dress shirt he wore was more a mockery than an allusion to a traditional Chozo robes. It was unbuttoned almost completely in front, deliberately showing off the brilliant, black diamond-like serpent pattern scales of his muscled chest. His scaled and lightly downed arms were bare but his elongated fingers as well as his toes were adorned with rings of a highly polished metallic ore on every other digit. On his glossy, tapered beak, the avian flaunted intricate, Celtic patterns etched along the right side, which had been filled in with silvery metal. He wore metallic earrings about where Angseth interpreted Chozo ear holes to be, and for the world they certainly did resemble the teeth of a definite predator, like a shark. The spray of his feathered head crest flared out and down nearly his entire back.

Angseth got a fair enough look in her blurred vision, but did not hesitate to raise her Sigel. There was a horrible pain in her right arm, though it was easier to elevate, and she suddenly found the reason why. The Sigel was now nothing more than a fragmented, smoking tangle of mechanics, and had it not partially melted to her suit she was sure her bare arm would now be exposed. This couldn't have happened while she smashed through the decks, Angseth realized, but somehow the Chozo's last attack generated enough heat to completely demolish the Sigel. Not wasting any more time, she brought her other hand around as her attacker slowly peeled himself from the wall and found another impossibility; half her left arm encased in solid ice.

"It cannot possibly be anymore plain. There it is, laid out before you Vera. The inevitability of your latest folly." The avian cooed as he strutted at the edge of the hole in the floor. He brought up his hand and spread his fingers in the air as he walked, leaving a trail of fading light in the air from each of his claw tips, giving Angseth a playfully sinister glance with one blue spherical eye.

Her frozen arm still raised, Angseth shook with mixed fear and rage. He still had her right where he wanted her, completely defenseless and wounded to a good degree. _This freak really needs to die. A lot._ Angseth thought accompanying her ragged grunts and growls. There was no way she would get a word in edgewise for the cockatoo from the Seventh Layer standing in the corridor who was absolutely in love with his own voice. She at least tried to keep him in view while she stood carefully. Keeping on her knees was probably safer but insulting in his presence. Angseth needed some measure of confidence to keep from losing her mind at this point, she had to find focus.

A terrible rumbling somewhere within the ship issued a massive quake in the hall, which almost shook Angseth off her feet. It sounded as though some vital organs of the cruiser had just been ripped out and flung into space, and she knew that the place was no longer whole. "Ooo, this could get interesting!" She heard the Chozo mewl just after she felt her weight diminish and her feet slowly leave the ground. The cruisers gravity drives had finally given up the ghost, and Angseth barely had a moment to think about her change in battle tactics before the avian leapt and tumbled sideways across the hole like a black shadow. She tried to turn in time but he was already on her other side, making a point to illustrate that his arms were folded while he traced a symbol into the air with his _foot_. Angseth was blasted through more corridor walls and floors, this time in the direction of where she knew the source of the ships rumbling to be. When she slammed to a stop and opened her eyes she found herself in an area completely exposed to open space, with immense hunks of the ship floating all around her. Explosions blared out from the areas she could see, and even more sections of the cruiser pulled and ripped away. This was all that she could see before her display fizzled into a haze of horizontal skips and snow, aside from her own fading consciousness.

Angseth felt her body being held and hoisted up carefully from behind. A powerful arm draped across her abdomen and she heard the tick of talons on the part of her armor where her ribs would be. "Shhhh…" She heard from the side of her helmet, though she hadn't said anything yet, "Still breathing? Good. Despite my little lesson for today, you will come out of this relatively sound, Vera."

"How?" She stuttered.

"Variable form when given the proper incentives can yield amazing results. My old body decayed from constant abuse, so I created a new one. You almost ruined twenty years of the best infiltration operation I have ever undertaken. In case it is still unclear in your mind, I _am_ Thomas, I _am _Ridley, and even though my fellow Chozo will deny it to their dieing breath, I _am_ Siairus."

She felt herself being pressed to a strong body behind her while another arm wrapped around her midsection, and for an instant she nearly believed herself to be back in her quarters with Briar. _Briar…I really fucked up this time. I'm sorry…so sorry, Briar._ She knew full well that she was not anywhere near her ship, and that was certainly not Briar at her back. No other male in existence should ever be this close to her, and this Chozo should not even have the favor of touching her. _You. Will. Pay. For. This. Ridley!_

"Your rage is palpable, my sweet." He whispered through her fizzling earpiece while he held her, "As I said before, you will survive. It seems you posses a familiarly annoying resilience akin to your dear, golden idol, Aran. However, it doesn't seem as though you are anywhere near as strong as she. Now…my gift to you before I finish leveling this vessel with your carcass and split, I will divulge a sliver of data for you. You, my brawny, Phazon chugging bull, are essential to my continued existence. You'll have to solve the riddle of how on your own, I don't have time for much more than that. I'm going to finish now, so give my regards to your miserable Mahesian boy-toy, hmm?"

Angseth head tilted back and her helmet filled with screams as Ridley put a taloned palm to her spine and chest and bombarded her core with elemental blasts. Nothing, absolutely nothing could compare to the pain she now felt. She had lost limbs and survived numerous battles, yet still she had never had the experience of liquid ice-like fire coursing though her body. She had no strength in her limbs and no sense of any direction while he swung her by the ankle and into large hunks of the cruisers bulkhead, carving it to pieces. Ridley cawed his shrill laughter and proclaimed his enjoyment during the entire assault. All was dark in her helmet, but Angseth was sure that there was a healthy pool of blood floating weightlessly around in her armor while she coughed. It seemed Ridley knew the limits of her suit, because through all the bombardment and agonizing pain there was no change in pressure, no oxygen lost. The blows came to the back and sides of her helmet, hardly ever the visor, and somehow her head was still attached. Slams, blasts and poundings continued relentlessly, there was no end to the Chozo's stamina. Just before losing all of her consciousness, Angseth attempted to flex the muscles in her left arm and to her surprise the ice encasing it gave subtly at her fingertips.

"Oh lawdy! What a fun little ragdoll you are!" Ridley chirped as he held Angseths limp body at his side like a military duffle bag. The cruiser around them was now nothing more than a sea of shredded, sparking metal and cold pirate corpses. "There surely isn't anything left to destroy. Hmmm, how 'bout it, baby? A little smooch before I g-!"

Shattering ice rained upward from Ridley's right side, and his vision was completely engulfed by a blaze of purplish light. A hand seized the base of his beak, brightly burning in a clamping death grip. He could only produce a garbled squawk as the hand held tightly, and he couldn't shake it off even when his entire head began to ignite. His claws were similarly burned when he tried to grab for the threat. As his vision gave he could swear he beheld a solid wash of light spilling from Angseths visor and after a moment he felt his eyes, which were at the source of the flame, explode with a loud pop from the heat. Before the blaze could reach the inside of his cranial cavity, Ridley managed to open what was left of his beak and vomit a healthy wad of glowing plasma into Angseths chest.

They were finally separated, with Angseths body hurtling into the cloud of wreckage and Ridley crying out in agony as he clawed at the flames on his upper body. The Chozo gave a long, loud shriek as his body burned, and the surrounding debris of the cruiser suddenly redirected their course towards him. The scrap sizzled, glowed and broke down before slapping to Ridleys body and reforming. His body enlarged with the added mass, his fanned black tail narrowed and lengthened into a segmented coil with a spaded tip and bat-like wings with thin, luminescent membranes sprouted from his back with a sound like bending steel. Ridley growled low in his long throat as the transformation into his dragonic form completed, and he immediately began searching the wreckage once his now blazing yellow eyes regrew. It was not as easy for Ridley to maintain his composure in this form, and plasmic drool ebbed from his toothy beak as he roared.

"_INSOLENCE! I detest surprises! And certainly not from maggots like you!"_ Ridley proclaimed, clawed fists balled tightly. His first instinct was to find and rend the nuisance asunder, but a moment more of deliberation stopped him. Angseths allies were not far from them, he was sure they would notice the explosion by now, and it was not yet time for an altercation with them. _"I'll leave you to your wretched fate, Vera. Use the time you have wisely."_ The beast said as he spread his enormous wings wide and bolted into empty space, leaving a trail of light from his eyes and wingtips.

Angseths body came to rest nestled in a chunk of debris that was once part of Thomas' office. The thing that stopped her was, in fact, the cursed jukebox which still played but skipped on a three second interval. Angseth heard nothing through her damaged helmet but her own gurgling breath, and a sound through the constant static that may have been Weavel's voice. It was hard to tell through the darkness and the pain, both completely enveloped her like a blanket. A single word repeated through Angseths infrequent exhalations, and over the definite broken voice of Weavel on the com.

"…Bri-ar."


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23:

All hailing frequencies practically overloaded on the _Mabus_'s final approach to the _Salem_. In addition to receiving communication from the _Salem_ itself, no less than ten other Confederation vessels chimed in with their own two cents worth. The Pirate fleet had halted its course, and even though Gamma Fleet was no longer a threat to the _Salem_, although the presence of a large Kriken force occasionally flirting with long-range scanners. The _Salem_ itself had been starved, it's people afraid and desperate. Captain Nevada Briar was sure that there hadn't been a more welcome sight in the universe than the twenty or so Confederation vessels that began to orbit the station. All the vessels were of varying sizes, shapes and purposes. Briar spent a few moments talking with old friends and catching up on the news. But there was still a nagging thought in the back of his mind: Angseth and her team still hadn't come back yet. He was both worried and relived at the thought. She may be hard to keep in one place, but she wasn't the type to completely abandon her men in battle.

The _Salem_ was a newer station, only about 50 years old and contained some of the more cutting edge technology that had been available at the time, with plenty of room for upgrades. Instead of the haphazard amorphic construction that had become the norm in space stations, the _Salem_ followed a definite pattern. The general form of the station was a large ring with a central core resembling a barbell hovering in the center. The outer ring served primarily military purposes, allowing many ships for both trade and defense to dock. The central barbell contained mainly business and civilian sectors. Eight other islands hovered at cardinal points around the _Salem_, each equipped with long-range defenses. The halls and rooms in the _Salem_ were large and spacious to allow for optimum movement and development in the station. Most of the population of the _Salem_ had been placed in large emergency shelters that could sustain a portion of the population for a short amount of time. Except for a skeleton crew and guard forces, that left most of the halls empty and deserted.

Briar scanned the information before him, his mind planning battle strategies and searching for possible weak points.

_"Captain Angseth?"_ said a voice near his elbow. A com had managed to get through. A quick glace confirmed that the voice belonged to Fleet Admiral Arget'ni of the Petraeus.

"This is Captain Nevada Briar, Admiral. Angseth is no longer Captain of this vessel, but I will gladly take your call," Briar answered.

_"No longer…I suppose I will find out later,"_ Admiral Arget'ni sighed. The alien woman looked worn and tired, as if she hadn't had rest in some time. _"We are about to commence docking and repair procedures. If you haven't sustained severe damage or injuries, I wish for the Mabus to remain on the perimeter, along with our other five battle __cruisers, the _Patton, Gaulle, MacArthur, Pericles_, and the _Sherman_. I certainly hope there is no objection to my assuming command of this operation?"_

"Of course not Admiral. I'm quite relieved actually," Briar sent a message to Osa to make sure the other five battle cruisers were on the equivalent of "speed dial" before he spoke again. "I don't mean to intrude, but what other ships are with you?"

_"Aside from the ones I have just mentioned, two heavily damaged battle cruisers, and mainly exploratory and science vessels that were caught off-guard when this whole mess started. Those fools on Syren had better get things straight soon, the situation seems to have gotten quite out of hand,"_ Arget'ni reached up and rubbed her high forehead. She originally hailed from the Cygnus sector, and like System Admiral Leonisa, had light blue skin, jewel-like eyes, and long iridescent hair. Arget'ni was much older however. The Petraeus was considered a diplomatic vessel, and was often deployed to quell and reason with colonists or corporations that wished to cause problems within the Confederation. She was one of Angseth's many idols, and the only reason Vera learned to speak Para'shu'in. _"I have received an odd bit of information, perhaps you might be able to help me since the __Mabus__ was over there recently."_

"I will try."

_"Why is it the entire population of the _Seattle_ is on the _Salem_?"_

Briar fixed his gaze on the holo screen, as if he could read or smell her emotions from the fragile mass of light. "That is a very good question Admiral. One that I'm sure Angseth herself would ask if she were here."

_"Where is your Captain by the way?"_ she asked.

Briar fought the urge to correct her again. "She went with a few of our best pilots, to determine the size of the Pirate fleet. I expect her back at any moment."

_"Good, when she returns send over your engineers and medical officers. We will need all the help we can get to assist the injured civilians and Marines on the Salem."_

"Yes Admiral," Briar saluted as the line closed. He sighed deeply, then paged Serec.

_"Yo."_

"Pack up yourself and your guest, I'm sending you to the _Salem_."

_"Captain, I'd rather stay on board. I have several good cadets here who can-"_

"Serec, I'm not going to ask you again. Admiral Arget'ni has requested that I send who I can. I'm sure Sacul will be happy to get off this ship."

_"You can say that again,"_ came a shout from the background.

"Please Serec. I know that you are one of the only people who can get that jump-gate running again."

Serec contemplated. Briar didn't beg, and certainly never begged _him_ to do anything. _"Alright. But I don't know if I can keep a good eye on Sacul there or not."_

"I have faith in you."

_"Thanks,"_ Serec said sarcastically, then closed the line, but not before Briar heard Sacul let out a jovial shout.

Captain Briar accessed his data again, then gave the command for the _Mabus_ to enter formation with the other five battle cruisers. The _Pericles_ was also here. He found that interesting. That ship was well over three hundred years old. He scanned the information of the other ships in the fleet, one of the more heavily damaged ships nearest the _Salem_ was the Seacrest. That caused Briar to raise an eye ridge. Vera had mentioned the Seacrest in her little confessional.

"Captain, our fighters are returning, but I haven't registered Angseth's or Weavel's craft."

Briar didn't need to say any words. His own aggravation and dread seemed to deaden the atmosphere on the bridge.

"Sir?"

Briar watched the fighters approach on a holo screen nearby, and something about the angle of approach caused his hackles to rise under his uniform. "Let them in, but I want a full report." He closed his eyes, unable to fight down the anxiety and fear for his beloved.

_What happened this time?_

* * *

For the first time since he had awoken in this metal shell, Weavel felt grateful for the cold comfort of mechanical and sterile binary processes. He had to be careful. If he became too emotional an override switch would trip and his body would click into hibernation until he calmed down. The override had been installed to prevent him from damaging his cybernetic frame. So he was calm when he should have been screaming in panic, his hands steady when he should have been so nervous and upset that he wouldn't be able to move, and somewhere in the debris field directly before him, Angseth lay bleeding and more than likely dead. How could he have let this happen? He both cursed and praised the turn of events.

Ridley had been defeated. The bastard had left suddenly after the command ship had been ripped to pieces. Nothing could confuse a force any more than the commanding officer leaving the battlefield. Weavel lost no time seeking out senior officials to plead his case to. He explained that a sizable force of Confederation ships had been positioned around the _Salem_ in anticipation of the incoming force. The cyborg didn't exaggerate when gave details. While Gamma Fleet could probably take the Confederation, they were no match for the incoming Kriken force. The Siafu and Kriken had been sworn enemies since they had first encountered each other. At first the officers had been skeptical. They knew Weavel, but he had been absent from Gamma Fleet for so long, he had lost their trust.

Weavel kept his internal com tuned to Angseth's frequency as he spoke to the other officers. He had no intention of joining her in battle. Weavel felt that he would be more of an obstacle to her. He had tried to convince himself of this then. Those events had passed less than two hours ago, but already it felt like a lifetime. The Stupid Marine chose, she _chose_ to go into battle with that creature. He warned her, but she still defied him, like she did to all of her other superior officers, and went after Ridley.

And then her screams began.

As Weavel addressed the officers, he listened to Angseth's cries and shouts of pain over his internal com. The Stupid Marine, probably getting torn limb from limb as he sat comfortable and safe far away. Yet he didn't turn off the com, he listened to it, and let it fuel his words. He told his people to turn and head to SR3-88, that he had established a fully functional colony there. And from what little information he had gleaned from Svenson, the base hadn't been compromised. Weavel felt it was still too soon to make the presence of the Siafu known, but his hand had been forced. And then the screams stopped, replaced by heavy breathing, and small spurts of sound that he took to be words.

He finally found Angseth clinging to some brightly colored decorative piece of machinery. Weavel felt both relief and pain as he came closer to her body. The internal light of her HUD had darkened, and he could see droplets of blood on the interior. He stepped out of his own fighter and used an energy beam to tether himself to his ship. As he pulled her free from the debris field, shame and guilt flickered over his circuits. This small human had done what he could not bring himself to do. She had stood up to Ridley, and had more than likely lost her life for it. Why did she do it? Was she just trying to show him up? How could she have run so recklessly into a death trap?

And now as he raced to aid her, he realized that those weren't the right questions to ask. He should have been asking the same questions of himself. Why didn't _he_ do it? Why did he swear revenge on Ridley and then never act on it? Why couldn't he bring himself to stop being such a coward?

"Bri-ar…" she gasped.

Weavel pulled her closer, his soul craving the kind of comfort he longer felt. He carefully placed her inside his ship. Should he take her back to the _Mabus_? Would she even survive the trip? She needed help soon, humans were too frail. His com cackled, the clicks and whirrs suddenly too loud for his senses. He ran over different options in his mind, each accompanied by sterile calculations and statistics. There was only one possible solution.

He turned his ship and began heading for the core of the Siafu fleet.

* * *

Serec studied his reflection in his bathroom holo-mirror after his conversation with Briar. Sacul was perched in his main room smoking a cigarette and watching something on his holo-vid. He had been happy, very happy until that fluffy-crested sister of his entered his life once again two days ago. Why the hell did she have to smoke in his quarters? She knew how much it pissed him off. He went back to his reflection in the holo mirror and tilted his head from left to right, making sure that his high-grade PLASMA was still working up to par. Someone would know Sacul's heritage, and then it wouldn't be long before his own cover was blown. Maybe he shouldn't have admitted that he was related to her so soon, but if he didn't, she would still be down in the brig. It really hadn't been his intent to remain undercover for so long. Every year Samus kept promising that he would eventually be able to return to his life with Acopiltaczet, and every year brought him only disappointment. He even served under Angseth at her recommendation, even became very good friends with the woman. He had wanted to tell Angseth his story more times than he could count, but he couldn't afford to out himself until Siairus was caught. He knew that Samus was doing her best. Both of the Chozo empires had pinned their hopes to that one human, and since she had disappeared, war wasn't going to be too far off.

He slipped his glasses back on, checking the readouts on the interior of the lenses. He had even come to like living among all this old technology, keeping it running was fun and easy. Serec even made sure that he didn't do a perfect job. He could have fixed that murmur in the warp core years ago. Even Nevada proved to be a good friend. He had successfully made a place here among the races of the Confederation. As Sacul cackled loudly at the holo-vid, he could feel another life come crashing down around him. Normally he tried to smile as much as possible, to always keep looking on the brighter side, but that was getting harder to do.

He opened a small storage compartment for personal items near the sink, and pulled out what seemed to be a giant opal to the untrained eye. It was a holo-vid and picture album. He ran his pale human thumb over the surface and an image roughly a foot high came to life. This picture had been taken almost forty years ago, of his mate and young hatchling, before Serec became a criminal and went into hiding. His hatchling wasn't even a hatchling anymore. His son would be fully-grown now and probably with a family of his own. Serec scanned through other images contained in the gem. The labs where he, Sacul, Solstice, and Siairus worked. He and Sacul had felt honored to work with Siairus, whom at the time had been the most praised weapons engineer in the entire empire. His invention of the Varia suit brought him instant fame. Serec and Sacul didn't think much of the appointment except that a successful project would pad their resumes nicely. Siairus had been obsessed with his newest project, code named R-1Dl3-Y, and Serec had given it his all. Advanced propulsion and maneuverability, Sacul had chipped in with her armor techniques, Solstice had been the one to fine-tune the AI and other redundancies that allowed for smoother more natural movement. The R-1D13-Y had been a work of art.

Then came the day his life ended among his own people. Siairus had displayed his new terrible weapon to his financial backers and department of defense overlords. They were in awe of the power and efficiency of the unit, and rumors of mass production flew through the lab. Then suddenly it stopped, in favor of making the new weapon a Relic. Sacul and Serec couldn't be happier. A successful weapon meant their careers promised to be successful, that same weapon becoming a Relic ensured that their names would be written down in history. But Siairus wouldn't have any of it. As he stated more than once, he intended for the R-1D13-Y to spill Ltaoclazeuq blood, and nothing else would satisfy him. When his complaints began landing on the desks of higher officials, then they called for his arrest. Siairus then left the empire before he could be apprehended. And since Siairus was no longer there to stand trial, the officials went after the other members of the design team, namely himself and Sacul. Serec and his sister had fled for their lives. Sacul left behind nothing except debt, while Serec was forced to flee to protect his mate and hatchling.

At first both of them had gone to Rovien, while Sacul seemed to be happy there, Serec found a new life in the Federation. All he had to do was play dumb long enough to get through Academy, and forge a few papers. His room mate in Academy had been Nevada Briar. That felanthrope had a keen eye and an even better sense of smell. He constantly kept Serec on his toes to keep identity secret. Once he left Academy he enlisted as an engineer, sent half of the money he earned to his mate through third-party connections, and that was how he met Samus. She agreed to help him, and in turn he would keep an eye on Angseth for her. Why in the world Samus wanted to keep tabs on a dense world human was beyond him, but at least Aran didn't charge an insane overhead for keeping quiet. Samus also fought to help clear Sacul and Serec's names. So far there was no news, but Serec had at least been entered into witness protection under, of all people, his former sworn enemies the Ltaoclazeuq.

Serec closed down the pictures and replaced the gem. He gave his hair/feathers one last smooth-over before stepping into his quarters. Sacul turned off the holo-vid and watched him from her safe corner on the opposite side of the room.

"Is he honestly letting you take me along?" Sacul said while watching Serec pack up his tools. She snubbed out her cigarette on her the heel of her boot, then dropped the butt into one of the pockets in her jumpsuit.

"Yes," every word from her brought up more bitter memories. Not much he could do about it now though. Now that he thought about it, where had she tapped the ashes of the damned cancer stick?

Sacul didn't appreciate the cold shoulder. "I haven't seen you in decades, and when we do meet up again, you treat me like this? What the hell Serec?"

Serec threw his last wrench into his case. "Because, Sacul, I left everything behind. I no longer consider myself Acopiltaczet. I am a citizen of the Confederation."

Sacul's hair seemed to lift a little. If she turned off her PLASMA, he knew he would see the feathers on her head fluffed out in a manner meant to be intimidating. "You no longer consider yourself Inauhomenlapi? I guess that makes sense, you eat like the humans, you sleep like the humans, hell, you probably even mate like the humans. Why Serec? Why do you hate who you are?"

Serec calmly closed his case, then turned fierce eyes on Sacul. "First, Sacul. You have no grounds by which to speak to me in this fashion. I have a new life, as do you. Both of us went through a lot of crap as Siairus's assistants. But we, or at least _I_ have left that behind. I like it here. I like my friends, both human and other races. Why have I turned my back on the Chozo? Because they turned their backs on us. Once Siairus had been discredited, we lost our entire careers, and almost our lives. We had to run, and I have tried my best not to rock this boat because I am happy."

Sacul folded her arms and turned away, she knew the glare in her siblings eye. Her arrival must have ruffled his feathers. Considering how she had been plucked from her shop, she wasn't too happy about this reunion either. "We've lost a lot haven't we?" she said, slipping into the version of Standard as she had first learned it. "It was so many years ago. I haven't thought much about it since. I guess I've turned my back on the Chozo as well. I didn't want to think about the past. It feels like a room filled with broken mirrors. I was once one of the best armor-smiths in the entire empire, and now look at me. Hiding at the ass end of the universe. And you, you were the one who invented what became the norm in recent space travel and helped our kind immensely with your advanced propulsion and teleportation systems. And it hurts to see you wasting so much of your talent fixing the ancient warp cores on this decaying Confederation vessel. How can you be happy?"

"Because I'm alive," he paused, realizing that he had been selfish thinking only about how those events had affected him. Serec finally picked up his cases and bags, then carried them to the door. "Once we step outside this door, not a word from you Sacul. No one on this ship knows my identity, I've gone to great lengths to ensure that."

"My beak is sealed," Sacul said.

Serec had to smile.

"I knew there was a reason I didn't kill you once you hatched."

"You may be older, but not by much, a few minutes at most."

Sacul checked herself in a holo mirror before they stepped out of his quarters. Two Chozo, disguised and living as humans for the past forty years. It wasn't long by Chozo standards, but long enough to leave them feeling abandoned and desperate. As Serec stepped out the door, his tenseness melted away, replaced by a genuine and caring smile. His quarters were located close to the engine room, per his request. As soon as he stepped into one of the main common areas, a group of his trainees and assistants stood gathered, wearing various forms of armor and carrying cases of tools.

"Hey," Serec called to his gathered assistants. "Is everyone ready? Checklists complete? Has everyone used the potty?"

Chuckles, a few of them nervous. "Do you think we'll encounter any Pirates on this mission?"

"I doubt that, the Pirate fleet has turned, seems like we'll be cleaning up the mess left behind. Our mission is to get the systems running, get the weapons back up and functional. Some of you will be sent to other ships to assist with repairs there."

"What about her?" the assistant pointed at Sacul.

"Oh, her? She's here to carry my luggage," Serec dropped his bag into Sacul's arms. Sacul hissed, but held the bag. Serec addressed the group. "You have your assignments, Team A, head to Bay 10, Team B, Bay 8, Team C, Bay 12. There you will board your drop ships and head to your assigned destinations. Now head out," Serec remained in the common room for the moment to answer any questions or help with assignments. Once the last of his teams had left, he headed for the nearest express lift.

"Where are we going next?" Sacul asked.

"The Med Bay, to collect Dr. Bearn and her assistants. We will head over to the _Salem_ with them."

"Oh…" Sacul adjusted the weight of Serec's bag. "Is the gravity heavier on this ship?"

"Yeah, we have a few dense world races on board."

"That explains why my legs are killin' me,"

* * *

Somehow, she was alive. Angseth knew she was alive because she had the matriarch of all headaches taking up residence near the base of her neck. She supposed that if she were dead, the last thing she would feel would be a headache. It was dark, and the air stank, but at least she was warm. Very warm actually, almost as if she had been immersed in a bath. That observation brought about pleasant memories of soaking in her little private hot spring back on Agartha. She opened her eyes again, attempting to determine if she had gone blind, or if the room was really that dark. As she struggled to look around, she realized that her face had been covered in some kind of sticky dry substance. Something moved along her right side, writhing and undulating like some great caterpillar. _What. Was. That_?

"That" caused panic to flush over her, pushing away all the pleasant sensations in favor of the dire need to assess her situation _now_. She struggled against the sticky mess on her face, and felt what seemed to be cords or rope of some kind wrapped around her entire body. The thing along her right side moved more quickly, over her thigh and down the interior of her left-_naked_-leg. She burst through the ropes and cold air hit her face. For a moment she was tempted to snuggle back into the warmth along her back, but there was light out here, not much, but enough to make out shapes and define the darkness. The light source on the other hand caused her to gag slightly.

Worms. Large grub-like worms with six eyes and glowing green phlegm crawled all over her naked body, leaving behind some kind of gel-like fluid that hardened into webbing. Her entire body had been cocooned by these things, and they crawled along her skin, glowing, chewing, oozing the webbing. Overcome with her own terror, she began to struggle, breaking the webs and exposing her body to the cold room. Her cries brought another surprise.

Angseth could make out Pirates running at the far corners of her vision. They clicked and chirped, the room filled with more strange smells. They didn't wear any armor, but their natural state was frightening enough. She kicked her left leg, then looked down in dismay when she realized that she was missing both her right leg and arm. The cybernetics had been removed. _What am I doing here? Did Weavel sell me out? Are they going to eat me? Oh goddess, is this how my parents died?!_

She kicked once more and the cocoon around her gave way. She tumbled to the floor and landed on one of the grubs, killing it. It screamed under her weight, its innards smeared across her stomach. To Vera it felt like she had landed on a pile of warm phlegm. It oozed and hardened against her bare stomach threatening…other areas. The floor was made of some kind of corrugated metal with textured prongs to increase traction. As soon as her body touched it, her skin began to burn and sting. She knew this pain well. She remembered seeing marines come into Dr. Bearn's office with severe burns of this nature, and healing them was always a long and painful process. One of the Pirates ran up what she supposed was a hall, while four others clustered around her, their clawed hands reaching for her remaining leg and arm. Angseth kicked at them, her hits weak. The very act of moving was enough to make her wince in pain. One grabbed her leg, and another her arm. Their grip was firm yet gentle.

"_Angseth, quit struggling, you will only hurt yourself more."_ Weavel's voice came from the darkness.

Vera quickly sought out Weavel's familiar yellow faceplate. "Where are you bastard?!"

"_Right here,"_ his voice came from her right side. _"Stop struggling."_

She bit back tears and cries of pain as she allowed her body to relax against the harsh floor. The pirate hands let go, replaced by Weavel's arms under her body. "What's going on? If you're gonna kill me, then at least let me know Weavel!"

"_We aren't going to kill you,"_ he placed her back in the slimy cocoon.

"Promise?"

"_If a Pirates word means anything to you."_

Once inside the cocoon, the slime and gel began to warm to her body again. Weavel picked up two of the grubs from a nearby container and placed them on her body. "What are you doing?" she gasped. The feeling of many small suction-cup like feet plodding across her backside caused mixed emotions of disgust and fear to ripple through her.

"_You were badly injured. You are still badly injured. These grubs will help heal you. They have been specially bred and raised to cater to the needs of a human. Try not to kill any more of them. We don't have many left."_

"Tell me what's going on! What's happening?" she demanded. Her eyes wide with fear and confusion.

Weavel waved one of the Pirates over, who began to pick up a few more grubs to repair the cocoon. He then helped Angseth roll over onto her back so she could face him. _"I don't think asking you to calm down will do much, but it would help immensely if you could manage it. The only humans these Siafu have seen had been dead ones. Your screaming is upsetting them."_

"_**I'm**_ upsetting _**them**_?"

"_Yes. Calm down and I will explain everything to you."_

"How about you start talking, and then I might decide to calm down."

Weavel stood nearby, he supposed that was the best he would get from her. _"You have sustained first and second degree burns over most of your body, the areas that hadn't been covered with frostbite. In addition to some significant nerve damage. If you don't settle, I'll add brain damage to that list,"_ he saw her glare at him, but she calmed a little. _"This cocoon you are in will help to numb the pain while you heal. These grubs eat away the dead skin and secrete a fluid that promotes healing. It's the best we could do on such short notice. My people won't touch you unless you do something foolish like leave the cocoon again."_

The grubs began to roam over her body, spreading their mucus that eventually hardened to repair the cocoon. Now that Angseth had a moment to get a good look at the grubs, they were kinda cute, in a disgusting way. The same way some humans found the Pug dog breed cute. She knew that her clothes had been removed, normally this would have made her nervous, but right now she was in so much pain that she didn't care. Vera leaned back and felt the gel inside the cocoon run over her scalp…her bare scalp. "My hair…"

"_Completely burned away."_

"It will grow back…I hope," she guessed that after a fight with Ridley, if all she lost was her hair, then she was ahead of the game. But that wasn't all she had lost. "My-"

"_Cybernetics have been removed,"_ he finished for her. _"They were destroyed beyond repair. A few engineers are working on another set for you. Not as high-grade as what you had, but at least you will be able to move again."_

Angseth sunk back into the gel. The other Siafu in the room seemed to return to work. She closed her eyes, trying to ignore the sensation of the grubs crawling all over her body and covering her with slime. The headache seemed to grow stronger. "I need to get back to the _Mabus_."

"_Not like this you're not. Your fiancé would tear me to pieces if he knew how injured you are. I already sent the others back with a message to deliver to the Captain that you are safe and currently negotiating a cease-fire,"_ he scanned a few holos. _"Rest up. We can't fully heal you, only time can do that. Time is something we don't have."_

"My head feels like it's going to explode."

"_That's because you are in the first stage of Phazon withdrawal. Body aches. Soon you will need another dose, or quit completely. Over time you will need larger and larger doses of Phazon to maintain. But the larger the doses are, the more sanity you lose, you will also risk destroying your body beyond repair. If you quit completely, then you also run the risk of losing your sanity, that will also be accompanied by physical pain. Whatever you choose, I will back your decision."_

"Even if it kills me?"

"_I only need you alive long enough to get Aran back. It's up to you if you wish to live longer."_

"That's one hell of a one-sided choice then…are there any other options on the table?"

Weavel tilted his head slightly to the side, one of the few body language gestures that still remained. _"There is one medical engineer present who wishes to try an experiment on you. He was present during the experiments on the Isrec miners. I wasn't sure how you would take to him, since he was one of the individuals responsible for the death of your people."_

"What could he possibly want?" she asked while pushing a grub away from her face that had wandered too close. Angseth guessed that she would name this one "Alex."

Weavel accessed a few holograms before continuing. _"While the main bulk of the experiments focused on Phazon capacity and genetic mutation in the subjects, he focused on how your human bodies developed an immunity to the radiation while still using the energy capabilities. His results indicated that the bodies of the Isrec miners pulled the radiation from the atmosphere around them and then processed and stored it within the pancreas and adrenal glands. Thus the Phazon became a part of their physical make-up by the time they reached adulthood. It became another resource, like water or air, that enabled their bodies to function. Since you had left that environment before you had reached full adulthood, your body never became dependent on it, but when you encountered it again, your body jumped at the chance, taking in as much as possible."_

"I think I remember you had said something about that on Rovien."

"_My scientist believes that if he was able to insert an artificial gland, one with the sole purpose of storing Phazon, would help your body to regulate and supply Phazon without the stress of seeking it."_

Angseth groaned. "Didn't the PED system try to do that?"

"_The PED system was different. It tried to artificially create a direct source of Phazon within the bodies of the user. The PED system then further aggravated the problem by allowing a direct current of energy to power external devices. The more devices that relied off the Phazon, the more power it drew,"_

"And the user would then be exposed to larger amounts without the chance to adapt."

"_Precisely. What he proposes to do is allow your own body to regulate its Phazon usage without emotional involvement."_

"Subconsciously then?"

"_You will only need to think about Phazon as often as you need to focus on breathing in your sleep."_

One of the grubs slipped around her neck. This one would be dubbed "Murphy." She would have complained except it's warm presence helped to soothe her headache. "Why do this for me? I can understand the Chozo wanting to help me out, but I have to be frank with you. I'm scared to be in a nest of enemies that I have been taught my entire life to hate. I don't know how your kind will react to me, or why they would even want to help me. I'm scared Weavel. There, I admitted it."

Weavel chuckled, it sounded like static coming from his vocalizer_. "We have been killing each other for a long time. But the hate has to stop somewhere. I have decided that it will stop with me first. The Siafu on this ship are not Pirates, they had been slaves to Ridley. The Siafu here aren't even warriors. Think of us as a democratic ant colony. This ship contains science and medical facilities. With Ridley gone, I can see to their safety. They owe you their freedom. I didn't need to tell them to help you, they did so willingly."_

"I still find it hard to believe."

"_I need you to make a few choices Angseth."_

Angseth gave him her full attention at the mention of her name.

"_Do you wish to have my scientist see to your Phazon dilemma?"_

"I'm unsure. But given the alternatives, I guess it's the lesser of two evils."

"_Is that a Yes?"_

"Yes."

He accessed the holo screen, she supposed, to contact his man, and then addressed her again. _"Secondly, what do you intend to do about Aran?"_

"I want to save her."

"_I plan on leaving for Anubus IV shortly. It will take some time to get there. If you still wish to travel with me, we will need to leave soon. I also know you had promised your mate that you would return to him, and he would be very angry if you left again."_

Angseth snorted. "When did you become my conscience?"

"_I need to know where you stand."_

"I don't know. You asked me already, and I don't know…Unless."

"_What?"_

"The _Salem_. They have a jump gate. That will allow us to get there quickly. But we need that gate."

"_The _Salem_ is out of the question. Our scanners indicate a very large Kriken force closing in from three different sectors. I'd suggest a full evacuation. That gate won't be fixed soon enough to evade their incoming forces."_

Vera glanced around the dark room. Alex and Murphy were happily munching away and excreting glowing threads that seemed to bond to her skin. She needed to get back to Briar and her ship. But they were bound by duty to defend the innocent to the last man. After a moment her mind settled on a thought. It would be a shot in the dark, but it just might work. "Hey Weavel,"

"_I'm listening."_

"How determined are the Siafu to have peace?"

"_Very."_

"Do you think you could talk a few battleships into assisting the Confederation in defending the _Salem_?"

"_Against the Kriken, yes. But can you talk the Confederation into allowing Siafu to join them in combat?"_

"I can try. If they don't agree, then take your people and go. No reason for more bloodshed among our peoples."

"_Of that, I agree."_

"Once the _Salem_ is safe, then I will get the gate operational, and we will go find Samus together."

"_And Briar?"_

"I love him, and I don't want to lose any more face with him. But if Samus isn't returned safely to the Chozo, then they will lay waste to the entire Confederation trying to find her. I've never been involved in anything on such a large scale before, but the fate of the universe as we know it rests in our hands. And if that means I have to give up Briar to protect him, then I must," she felt a pain in the back of her throat. Her eyes began to grow moist and she bit her bottom lip, trying to keep her sobs under control. The thought of really losing Nevada had never crossed her mind. Sure they had their little spats on occasion, but to wake up some morning and realize that he was gone, never to return to her, never really settled in. She had suffered loss in the past, but no one had meant as much to her as Briar. "I will do what I need to. I will help get Samus back, even if it means that I lose everything in the process. For whatever stupid reason that woman means a lot to our three races. Even if she's just a stupid blond with the devils luck, so many people look up to her, place faith in her. You do, I do, the Chozo do, and who knows how many other countless lives she's touched in this world and others. I can't stand here and let their hope die because I wasn't willing to take the risk."

"_Very poetic of you."_

"You help me keep the _Salem_, and I help the Siafu become a recognized race in the Confederation."

"_Deal."_

* * *

Several dropships left the _Mabus_ and joined others from other ships on the _Salem_. They bypassed the outer defense ring and docked in the central core, near the emergency bunkers and central housing areas. The medical facilities here were top-notch. Ideal conditions for a station of this size. Dr. Bearn had just finished unloading her equipment and assistants from the drop ship and into the med bay when her com beeped. She shouted a few orders to those under her command before answering the page. "Dr. Bearn here."

_"Sakari,"_ Briar said over the line. _"I know this is on short notice. Is Serec with you?"_

"Yes," she called out to Serec, then opened the line to him. Serec set his bags down and adjusted his holo glasses, Briar's image flickered on the clear surface for a moment.

Once he had the attention of both Serec and Dr. Bearn he began to fill them in on the situation_. "Our long range scanners are picking up a very large Kriken force coming in fast. Our orders have changed. Secure a medical area and prepare for combat conditions."_

"Damn." Dr. Bearn spat.

_ "Admiral Arget'ni wants to get the jump gate working so we can evacuate the civilians onboard."_

"Right, I'll get on it." Serec seconded.

_ "Load as many civilians as possible onto available ships, drop ships will help to shuttle them."_

"Are we abandoning the _Salem_?" Sakari asked.

_ "We haven't decided yet. I think Arget'ni wants to buy time to fix the gate."_

Serec chimed in. "How big of a Kriken force are we talking about?" when Briar seemed to struggle with his answer, Serec spoke quickly. "Nevermind, I know that look. You're either not sure or its so overwhelming that you don't want to tell us," he picked up his bags and began jogging toward the nearest express elevator. "Sacul! Get your fluffy scrawny butt over here! I need your help!"

"Why can't I stay with the medic?"

Sakari narrowed her eyes at Sacul. "I can sedate her if you like Serec!"

Briar spoke to her again. _"If you see Bearn, ask him to contact me, I'm having trouble paging him."_

"That's odd, he went down into the prison level to see what was down there."

_"Do you know why he turned his com off?"_

"I think he said something about a hacker. Didn't want to chance it."

_"Keep me posted if anything turns up."_

"Aye Captain."

* * *

Commander Bearn scanned the last keypad, opening the door to the prison compound deep within the _Salem_. He and ten other Marines had come down here to assess the possible hostility of the inmates in the now likely event the station saw more combat. The prison sector was small, not meant to house anyone dangerous for a length of time. Standard procedures dictated that a certified marine vessel would take away the more violent or high-risk prisoners at regular intervals and deliver them to Gulag IX. Bearn had served a term on Gulag IX, one of the most disgusting and horrifying places he had ever been. In comparison, the prison sector on the _Salem_ was a day care, and very well planned out. The cells had been arranged in a three-leaf clover pattern, a central control room had three other protruding points that extended into each "leaf" where twenty four cells had been stacked, four high, six across. The total capacity of the prison was just seventy-two cells. Bearn supposed that the inmates could double up if it was seriously needed, but for the moment the prison roster only recorded thirty-two inmates.

He accessed the computer systems and scanned through the files while his men kept a perimeter and scanned the contents of the cells. Most of the names in here were nobodies. Locals who had had a bit too much to drink or had too many drugs in their system, a few petty thieves, minor hackers. One Marine who was serving time for almost killing some guy while off duty, the usual flotsam of society. And two other names he didn't recognize, but were flagged under high-security status. For some reason the wardens had decided to put the two next to each other. Bearn decided to go and see this for himself.

He left one of his officers in charge of the control room, called two others to his side, and then started up the walkway that led to the "left" prison leaf. One blast door later, and they stood on a platform with a panoramic view of the cells before him. No one would even be able to twitch without his knowing from this vantage point.

…_knows, newcomers have entered the room, they have come to witness the mighty power of…_

Bearn tapped the side of his helmet, then spoke to his troops. "Did any of you just get any com interference right now?"

"No sir."

"Keep your ears open. The files said nothing about an esper in here, but that doesn't mean that one of these prisoners ain't hiding talent."

"Yes sir."

The two prisoners were in the cells directly before him. The platform he stood on could be used to maneuver all around the room, to investigate each cell individually. The prisoner to the left had not only been contained in the holding cell, but also locked inside a transport tube. Somebody didn't want this guy to get out. The prisoner resembled a huge glowing yellow maggot, with odd black stripes along its body, and what Bearn guessed to be one large eye smack in the middle of it's head. The inmate next to him was either a cyborg or an android. Some humanoid creature with knives for fingers and serrated wings extending from its back. It sat dead center of the cell, hands clapped tightly over its ears and pain written across it's face. As soon as it saw the marines, ruby-red eyes opened and it stood, hands coming together, pleading, begging.

"Please! Please! I promise I will behave, just let me out! Or move me! Yes! Move me away from him! I can't stand it anymore, night and day, day and night, Kanden, Kanden, KANDEN!"

…_Kanden hears the cries of exuberance from his prey. Yes, He knows the name of Kanden. Soon Kanden will come for him, after Kanden finishes his nap, Kanden will…_

This time Bearn wasn't the only one to pick up on the odd com interference. So just who was this "Kanden"? Glancing into the cell on the tortured prisoners right, Bearn found a particularly surly looking inmate roughly the size of a Sheegoth bull with alabaster flesh and a beard made of what looked like sharpened teeth. This "Kanden" didn't seem to be doing much in the way of talking or even brooding, as he busied himself by dubiously picking his nose. He didn't know the name, he couldn't be bothered to remember every name of every two-bit criminal that crossed the Confederation data banks.

"Mister please!"

Bearn didn't know why they had put the cyborg next to this, Kanden, but at the moment he wasn't willing to risk an escape. He turned back toward his troops. After investigating the detention center, he would need to head to the utilities sector and begin to evaluate how much of what was still running, and if anything needed to be shut down for the battle.

_"Commander Bearn."_

"What 'chu want Briar?"

_"Why have you turned your com off?"_

"I didn't turn it off, guess there must be some interference down here."

_"I need you to meet up with Commander Thera in the utilities sector."_

"Was just headin that way. What's it look like out there?"

_"We just confirmed a large Kriken force closing in. We need all available hands."_

…_Kriken?…_

"Right, I will be there as soon as I finish locking this place down.

…_Kanden will awaken now…_

Bearn cursed as the interference crackled in the background of his audio feed. He continued along the walkway back toward the control room when he heard the distinct sound of breaking glass behind him. With thoughts of a large booger covered fist breaking free racing through his mind, the Marine snapped around and scanned the cell block.

The maggot was nowhere to be seen, only a trail of broken plasteel.

…_Kanden cleverly navigates the air ducts, the clueless Marines search the room frantically for Kanden, but to no avail…_

"I don' believe this shit," Bearn looked to the ceiling, and as predicted, there was an air duct over head. "He's in the vents!" he lifted his rifle and began to fire.

…_Kanden has been momentarily spotted! But they cannot match wits with the Spectacular Saffron Cyclone! Hyzzz! One small bomb later and Kanden is…_

Bearn yelled in frustration as the voice trailed away. He lowered his rifle, and cursed. The cyborg was now practically doing back flips in his cell.

"Oh thank you! It's gone! The voice is finally gone!" it chanted.

Commander Bearn reluctantly opened his com line. "Captain."

"_Briar here...is everything alright?"_

"Bad news."

"_What now?"_

"We have an escaped prisoner."


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24:

System Admiral Leonisa sat comfortably upon a large pillow in her quarters. Her people had been known to be extravagant in their décor, almost every surface had been covered with some kind of shiny gem-like material. She rested casually, her pet, a dog breed from Earth known as a "Schnauzer" slept next to her, its silver coat complementing her rooms perfectly. In her hand she held a crystal goblet filled with one of her favorite drinks, Nacussian wine. Before her hovered a holo sphere and to her right, a com channel had been opened to Admiral Laktelos. She had almost called it a night when he paged her from across the cosmos. He had asked her to tune into the news coming from Syren. Leonisa had been bombarded the past few days with reporters demanding to know what the other System Admirals felt about the newest candidate for Draco System. Frankly she was quite tired of talking to them. Then Laktelos called, and the information running over her holo screen caused her blood to run cold.

_ "Admiral Thomas! What are your plans for Draco System after your official inauguration?"_

_ "Well, it's still too early to call, but I have plans to eliminate the Pirate threat from this system once and for all."_

_ "How do you intend to pull that off with so many of our forces defecting to other systems?"_

_ "During a recent mission, I located a secret Pirate base on SR3-88. Not even the combined ignorance of the other six Admirals can stop Syren from eliminating this threat from our time-space."_

Leonisa finally turned off the holo screen. "Why call me Laktelos? I hate this child already."

"I find it more amusing that he's hamming it up for the cameras," Laktelos laughed. "No, there is something about him I can't quite place yet. He seems a little older for his years, yes?"

"I don't like him. I refuse to work with him, not the first Admiral to swear death to all Pirates."

"His inauguration is in two days, still enough to block him."

"And risk Draco becoming even angrier?" she glanced at the holo screen. "Why is that damned smirk still on your face?"

"We have some very interesting happenings on the _Salem_."

"The _Salem_? I thought Draco was on a communications blackout. How are you getting information?"

"I have some sources within the station, sources with very nice technology."

"Spill it Laktelos! I am tired of your games!" Leonisa shouted, awakening Trooper. The dog bruffed once, a false alert, then turned and went back to sleep.

"Temper, temper 'Nisa. Not one for much foreplay are you? I have had Admiral Mirson's assistant, Anderson, under my supervision for some time. He's my inside man. Right now he is at the _Salem_ along with your Fleet Admiral Arget'ni, and quite a few other vessels, including the _Mabus_. They are currently steeling themselves against an incoming attack from the Kriken. They were going to have to face both the Kriken, and Gamma Fleet, but it appears that someone interfered, and the Pirates turned back without firing a shot."

"How do you get a fleet of Pirates to turn back without some retaliation?"

"I don't know. But I will ask Captain Angseth when I see her again how she did it."

Leonisa grew quiet, sipping her drink thoughtfully. "What is going on?"

"I don't have any hard evidence, but I do find it curious that Mizzen hasn't been throwing his usual fit over this farce of an election. I have reason to believe that he and this Thomas fellow have had previous arrangements."

"On what grounds?"

"Well….we both know that Angseth was one of his more prized captains, and he attempted to shelve her for a while by imbedding her with the Chozo."

"He did seem genuinely surprised when I told him that she had returned to her command aboard the _Mabus_."

"And the Chozo, curiously enough, have been involved in a few minor skirmishes on the frontier regions. Seems as if this tentative peace between the two factions is running thin."

Leonisa ran her delicate hand over Troopers smooth silver coat. "You are not being open with me Laktelos. What is it you know that I should?"

"You are right, I have been withholding information from you. Thirty-seven years ago I had a lost Chozo by the name of Solstice standing in my office, attempting to drop off a human child by the name of Samus Aran. I told him that the chances of finding a human family willing to take the girl in would be slim, and most of the orphanages I had seen were not of the best caliber. Instead I made a proposal. That the child remain with the Chozo and serve as a neutral go-between for the two factions. The fact that the child was human would also tie her to the races of the Federation, making her an ideal diplomat. In turn, I paid for her schooling out of my own finances and helped her to enroll in the military long enough to gain access to the computer systems and minor socialization within the ranks. She has been listed as a Bounty Hunter simply because it is the easiest way to explain why she leaves for long periods of time and cannot be reached."

"Interesting bit of history. What does this have to do with Draco?"

"Sam, bless her heart, has always been sure to write home and give me at least a small letter about her current adventures and allies. But I seem to have missed her last communication. Suffice to say I am worried. Therefore, the Chozo are worried. When the Chozo get worried, they begin to blow things up. As much as I try to keep our military up to date, in the entirety of the Confederation, we cannot fight a war with the Chozo. They are simply too powerful. Hence, why Samus is so important to us."

"So where is Samus?"

"I don't know. But, oddity of oddities, the same week she went missing, Mizzen placed Angseth in Chozo custody. I would bet any amount of money that he was attempting to either make a swap, or buy time to allow his plan with Thomas to unfold."

"What do you think happened?"

"I think Solstice grabbed Angseth up and sent her out to find his Hatchling. Angseth, bless her heart, is looking."

"I don't like your tone," Leonisa studied the hologram. "Do you want to ask a favor?"

"Well…since you ask so bluntly, yes. Cancer Sector has mainly mining regions, we do not have a strong military presence, but Cygnus does. I have two questions, first, has Thomas requested any troops from Cygnus to aid him to deal with the Pirate threat?"

"No, I have never received any communication from him."

"I see, so that just leaves Mizzen, and getting information from that creature is next to impossible. Second question, can you keep an eye on the Pentacle? Cygnus is closer, and Mizzen wouldn't suspect you."

"Everyone knows that you and me collaborate. I don't need any of Mizzen's troops wandering all over Cygnus…It isn't like us to plot against each other. The System Admirals have gotten along very well so far, I don't know if I want to stir up any trouble."

"My dear Leonisa, the trouble has already been caused. We must simply prepare for the storm," With that, his holo screen closed, leaving Leonisa's quarters dark.

For a moment her fingers hovered over the com switch, then she withdrew them. As much as Laktelos had their safety in mind, she wasn't sure how to take his request. Thomas' inauguration was only in a few days, it would take that long to get her ships to Orion sector. No, she needed time to think. Laktelos had men on the inside of all the other Admirals offices, there was no way to determine if Mizzen didn't have men posted in her command as well. Making a move like that would at the very least cause him suspicion. Leonisa drank the last of her wine, then settled back into her large pillow. She would wait until more information presented itself, or until she had a chance to make communication with the _Salem_. Either way, there was little she could do at the moment.

* * *

Angseth navigated dark halls. Her armor closed around her, her HUD displaying the location and statistics of those in her party. Captain Thomas was at her side. His features gone blank once again. She was back on the _Seattle_. Gravity was fluctuating even more severely than before. She had a mission to find Admiral Mirson. He was here somewhere amidst the rubble and bodies. Siafu, Marine, Chozo, everywhere their decaying corpses lay scattered, the very life force having been pulled from them.

"Captain, I really recommend that you not enter that room." Thomas stated over her com line.

"Shut-up Siairus. What are you doing here anyway?" Angseth snapped her reply.

His face was a silent mask once more.

Briars voice then cackled through the com line. Seems as if he still hadn't gotten that background disturbance cleared up. "Vera, there should be a room up ahead, we believe that may be the location of the Metroid nest. Be careful, you remembered to bring your ice missiles right?"

Angseth checked her inventory. No ice anything. That was fine, she had plenty of depleted Phazon rounds that she could hammer away at the creatures with. "I'll be fine Briar,"

"Vera, if you need me, know that I am-"

The signal suddenly went dead. Angseth switched over to an auxiliary channel. "Weavel, ya there?"

"Yes,"

"I'm heading into the Metroid nest, cover me if you can," she rounded a corner in the hall. It didn't look like the _Seattle_ at all, but somewhere in her mind she knew it was the _Seattle_. Thomas was close behind her.

"Metroids? You're on your own in there Private."

"Where are you?"

"Ridley has me cornered in a supply room."

"Shit! I'll be there as soon as I can!"

"Just keep Thomas occupied and I'll be fine."

"Thomas? What does he have to do with anything?"

"_He has everything to do with anything."_ Weavel responded.

Angseth didn't question it. Mirson was thawing, the little blip on the upper left of her HUD told her so, and she had to rescue him. She stopped running for a moment to study the door before her. It was smooth and featureless. Normally she would have passed it right by, but her map said that this wall was the door. Weavel wanted her to keep Thomas busy. Okay, she could manage that. "Thomas, how do you think we should get through this door?"

Thomas seemed to come back to life, like a robot coming out of "hibernate" mode. "That door, it can only be opened from the inside. It's crawling with Metroids anyway. Why do you want to go there?"

"Because it's my job, I need to go through there to find Mirson!"

"Oh Vera, you have no idea the can of worms you're about to open," Thomas sneered. Angseth glanced over her shoulder to get a good look at him. Seemed as if a few of his Chozo qualities were starting to push through that pale human face.

"Why are you following me still?"

"Because you are essential to my continued existence."

"I hate riddles," Angseth said, then placed a hand on the wall.

"You need Phazon to open it."

"I don't have any Phazon."

"Nonsense. You _are_ a PED unit aren't you?"

Angseth looked down at her hands. They were glowing blue. "Oh yeah, I forgot," she placed her hands on the section of wall, then summoned up the Phazon buried deep within her soul. It poisoned her body as she used it, yet the wall gradually melted away. Inside was a large room, circular in shape and probably used as communications hub for the _Seattle_. It was also filled with Metroids. They floated and darted everywhere, covering everything.

"Oh good, now we can start the hunt!" Thomas said.

Angseth lifted her rifle and began blasting away. They seemed too easy to kill. One shot and they fell or exploded. And for all the enthusiasm that Thomas had, he never helped her to shoot them down. Soon there was only one left, hiding behind a row of computer terminals. Angseth stepped further into the room, trying to line up a better shot. The last one fell into her sight, and she hesitated to fire.

"Go on, shoot it!"

It was a Metroid, and yet it wasn't. It still had the glass-like green exterior, the talons on the bottom, but instead of the three orbs in the center, there was Samus, wearing only her blue uniform and no Varia suit. Samus had pressed her hands to the exterior, as if she were simultaneously begging to be freed and asking not to be fired upon. Angseth lowered her weapon and approached the Metroid.

"Kill it!"

"I will not!" Angseth snapped. Thomas appeared to grow upset, and the wall behind him suddenly tore away. Weavel ran into the room, with Ridley hot on his heels. Samus-troid didn't seem to like the newest turn of events. Her little Metroid shell vibrated then split into two. Now two Metroids hovered in the room, each with their own little Samus trapped inside.

"_We need to run!"_ Weavel grabbed Angseth's arm.

"I can't leave her here like this!" Angseth fought his grip, and spun around in time to see one Metroid attack Thomas, and the other attack Ridley.

You are essential to my continued existence, I'll leave that riddle for you to solve on your own.

Vera suddenly froze, the dream around her decayed and consciousness pulled at her mind.

She woke up screaming.

* * *

Angseth breathed heavily as she snapped her wristband back on and ran her finger over the blue gem on the surface. Murphy and Alex had been removed from her body and placed in a holding tank with what looked like small pieces of silicon. What they would do next was anyone's guess. For a moment she sat on the table next to the remains of the cocoon, the Metroid fang necklace was the only article of clothing still on her person. A few lights had been brought in for her sake, the Siafu left the room moments ago, giving her back her arm cuff that contained the means of donning her armor. For the moment, the coldness in the room was the last thing on her mind. Her withdrawal symptoms had returned in full force. The headache, the nausea, the general bitchiness that ravaged her thoughts and reactions like PMS horribly intensified. The only thing missing was the body cramps. But she was sure those would come in due time. As much as she hated to admit it, she was craving her next dose of Phazon. Or as Ridley had appropriately put it, her next _fix._

Heavy footfalls sounded in the hall and Vera instinctively covered her nakedness with her arms and crossed her legs. Weavel stomped into the room, then took a half step back into the doorway, turning his head as if to allow her some sense of modesty. In his hand he held some kind of canister. Inside the canister was a small grape-sized fragment of glowing blue rock. _That would be mine._ She thought, almost salivating with anticipation of the release that glowing piece of contraband would provide. Vera quickly depressed the gem, her face twisting in pain as the protective undergarments and armor closed over her sensitive skin. She didn't have the severe burns that she had hours ago, but now it felt as if her entire body was covered with severe sunburn. She only had a sunburn once in her life, when she fell asleep under a tree on Estertia with Briar. Every last movement brought more annoying stinging pain. Weavel entered again after all sounds had stopped and Angseth gave him the okay. He reached into a nearby stasis tank and pulled out two large flat oval-shaped worms.

_ "Put these inside your armor. They will heal any wounds you may receive in battle, and help with your pain,"_ he stated flatly. Vera could almost detect a hint of bitterness behind his digital words.

"Thanks," her gaze shifted from the canister in his hands to the worms. She studied and scanned them for a moment before carefully pulling her helmet off. The inner padding scraped the even more sensitive skin on her scalp. She really hoped her hair would grow back soon. She had a buzzcut before, but really didn't want to think about going bald for the rest of her life.

_"I was told that you didn't accept the offer of the implant we had discussed."_ Weavel announced curtly. Ah, there was the source of his attitude.

"No I didn't," she dropped one of the worms down the exposed gap in the armor near the back of her neck.

_"Why?"_ he demanded.

"Because I need to go now. I need to get to the _Salem_ and the implant would have required too much recovery time that I can't afford." The sensation of the creatures crawling along her back and warming to her skin was a unique one. This seemed to satisfy Weavel to an extent.

_ "How are your cybernetics?"_ he asked, almost as if asking a ship for diagnostics.

"Not as nice as what I had, but they will work out just fine." one of the worms nibbled lightly on her skin, her general aches and pains ebbed away. The effect was like stimulants, except without the hyper feeling. But the withdrawal symptoms stayed.

_"And the nerve calibration?"_

"Painful as always, but nothing I can't endure." Damn these worms were great.

Weavel turned, his servos and inner mechanisms loud in the small room. He then asked with surprising sincerity. _"What will you do about your withdrawal symptoms?"_

For the moment Angseth froze. She knew that he would ask eventually, but didn't think the question would feel so…intimate. She shook off those thoughts and stood, wincing as her skin protested her movement. "I wanted to talk to you about that." Angseth really had no business jumping back into battle so soon, but she didn't have a choice. As long as she could continue to hold a gun, her place was on the battlefield. The new cybernetics had all of the speed and grace of a downed fighter, but at least they were durable and looked as if they wouldn't break easily.

_"Angseth?"_ He asked. She turned tired eyes up to face him. For a long tense minute he was quiet, even all of his smaller internal components had seemed to obey the silence. Vera was aware of her breathing, and of her heart beating quickly in her chest. That faceplate only reflected her features, pale blue eyes, dark skin, black cuts and tracks spreading across her cheeks and forehead. Her lips had become pale, no longer their familiar healthy dark pink, they now seemed to be almost purple. Her appearance disgusted her. And if it disgusted her, then Weavel and Briar must feel the same. Even Dr. Bearn had looked upon her with fear in her eyes. She had never felt more like a freak in her life. There was no pride in her new appearance, only desperation and the cold longing for her next Phazon embrace.

Angseth turned away, for the moment unable to accept her reflection.

Weavel took a step back and placed his left hand over his right wrist, twisted slightly, then slid an entire piece free and gave it to Vera. _"This is for you."_

"Your Battlehammer?" she whispered.

_"You deserve it. You did what I couldn't bring myself to do in fighting Ridley. Its yours to keep."_

Angseth studied the device, then clicked it into place on her right wrist. A new weapon. A gift from someone who would have killed her a year ago. A gift from someone that if things were a little different, she might want to keep closer to her. Weavel turned to leave when Vera suddenly jumped onto his back, her legs wrapped around his waist and her arms over his shoulders and neck. He froze, the sound of his armor scraping hers filled his ears. She said nothing, only clung to his broad back, her head resting near his. One of her hands reached and pulled the long tassel free and draped it over her right shoulder.

_"Why?"_

"Thank you for saving my life," she sighed. "I hadn't realized until now." Angseth held tightly as Weavel stepped backwards and sat on the edge of the table, pushing aside the remains of the cocoon. Angseth slid a little before her full weight rested on the table. After a moment Weavel reached up and closed his hand over her right wrist. Metal on metal, cybernetics cradling cybernetics. For a moment her breath misted one corner of his HUD, reminding him that even though they shared some of the same metallic make-up, she was still flesh and blood. Inside her metal armor was something soft and warm, easily broken, not so easily repaired. Her voice cut through the hum of static from his circuits. "Do you love her?"

_"Yes,"_ he answered without a thought.

"Will you always fight for her?"

_"Yes."_

"And if she turns away from you?"

_"I will cover her back. She is not the kind of person to ask for help, or even desire companionship. She is not part of a pack, or colony as you are, nor will she ever be."_

Angseth went silent again before speaking. "Weavel. If things on the _Salem_ go sour, then I want you to withdraw from the battle and find her. And when you do find her, hold her tightly. Even if she screams, even if she fights. Hold her and never let her go. If she slips through your fingers once, you will never get a second chance to catch her again." Her arms loosened, and Angseth slid free. "You're a good friend. I hope nothing ever comes between us." She pulled her helmet on again, snapping all the little locks into place. For the moment trying to push all thoughts of Briar out of her mind. He couldn't accept her now, not after what she was about to do. "I need Phazon."

_"I figured. You know the risks."_

"I do. I have thought them through. I already ache all over, soon I will become unbearable to be around. You already said that you would help me if I needed it, and I need it now."

_"Angseth," _

"Yeah?"

_"It's an honor to fight with you. Try not to get killed."_

"That's the idea," she sideglanced the canister again.

_"I have no grievances, it wasn't my intention to become your dealer. I offered you an out already, and you didn't take it. Whatever happens from here on out, I claim no responsibility for."_

"I don't need a lecture Weavel, just give it to me!" her voice was harsher than she intended, and was accompanied by a sudden twitch in her shoulder.

Weavel opened the canister and gave it to Angseth. Vera reached inside and pulled out the stone, lovely and blue and glowing. She closed the fingers of her left hand around it and instantly blue light ran up her arm, pulsing through her body in variations of blue and purple light. Weavel kept an eye on his radiation counter the entire time, and while she should have been emitting enough to render this entire section of the ship useless, her body retained it, greedily pulling it toward her center.

Angseth slid off the table, her body collapsing to the floor, her fingers still locked around the stone. Her faceplate became a flat blue glowing pane. For a moment her right leg twitched, kicking and scraping the grating on the floor. The blue light seemed to embed itself into the grooves and seams of her armor. Her fingers clenched tightly, balling into fists as she curled into the fetal position. The light intensified for a minute longer before growing steady. Slowly Angseth relaxed, her fingers and knees uncurled. Soon she lay quiet and still. Weavel scanned her body. For a moment it seemed as if her life signs had flat-lined but grew gradually stable, weak, but getting exponentially stronger. He knelt next to her, picked up her body, leaning it against the table base. Her head rolled forward and he righted it as well, holding her upright and scanning her visor. The intense blue light faded a little from her visor and he could make out her lips, deep purple, then her eyes, burning poison blue, her skin had been almost completely covered with the corruption. Her mouth opened, and he watched her chest rise and fall with labored breathing. Her pupils faded away to diseased white, the color of cataracts on a corpse. For a moment she regarded him, as if looking for some thing to hold her interest, but that expression was quickly replaced by another. Her lips twitched once, almost mistaken for a muscle spasm, then the corners drew upward, exposing a thin line of teeth. Her eyes became liddy, almost lustful, and she began to giggle.

This giggle wasn't the one he had heard on Rovien, or even the nervous one back on Tallon IV. This was dark, sinister, welling up from her nightmares, deep and taunting. It made his circuits grow cold, and even fearful. Her giggle grew louder in volume, turning into outright laughter. Weavel stepped back, watching her chest rise and fall with her breath. The thought dawned on him that he was watching her sanity break down. He was watching a person he had come to admire, finally leave all of her thoughts of morality and humanity behind only to be replaced by this mad giggling creature before him.

Angseth, no, the Demon pulled itself to its feet and activated the Battlehammer. Instead of the familiar yellow of the energy blade, it now was blue, corrupted by the Phazon. She tested it by performing a few moves with the weapon, then withdrew it. She said nothing, only fixed predatory eyes on Weavel accompanied by the grin. "Lead the way," she breathed.

For the first time since meeting Angseth, Weavel was afraid of her.

* * *

Briar thanked the powers that be that he had the forethought to set mines around the perimeter of the _Salem_. His stomach felt like it was turning into a knot as he studied the readouts before him. The incoming Kriken force was enormous. It showed on his scanners like a huge red, orange, and purple static-like cloud. The cloud spread along three fronts, all converging on the _Salem_. The _Mabus_, and the other five battle ships had already coordinated offensive and defensive strategies. Each ship had been assigned a section of the space around the _Salem_ to defend. From the looks of things, they would need more firepower.

Despite all of the information present in the Confederation data banks, not much was known about the Kriken. In physical appearance, they were composed primarily of a thick jagged exoskeleton, with thin yet strong limbs. To more easily navigate smaller spaces, they could fold in on themselves and then walk around on three legs. The exoskeleton tended to be either red or orange in color, and on very rare occasions, deep purple. Their "head" appeared to float five to seven inches above their "shoulders" and through many years of observation, no one could determine how or what purpose that would serve. Some scientists had speculated that perhaps the "head" was actually the core body, and everything else was manipulated through telepathy. Either way, the bastards were hard to kill.

Kriken tended to stay near the Outer Reaches, and were one of the few races able to remain in deep space without the aid of any technology, including suits. Some had theorized that they were a highly sophisticated form of virus, others stated that they had been genetically engineered. The Kriken always moved in large numbers, due to their social structure. The dominant Kriken were known as a Nucleus, with anywhere from five to one hundred Drones at their disposal. The Nucleus controlled the Drones through telepathy, and the Drones consumed and destroyed everything at the whim of the Nucleus. If a Nucleus were killed, then the rest of the Drones under its command would become disoriented and often turn on each other. That worked out well in most battles. The main problem with this tactic was that it was impossible to tell the two types apart. However there had been reports of another Nucleus taking control of ronin Drones. From these scans it was impossible to tell how many Nucleus and likewise, how many Drones comprised the incoming force. For all Briar could tell, they were gazing out at an asteroid field that just happened to have arms and legs.

With the entire crew on red alert, the ship had fallen under an eerie silence. All of the fighters had been deployed, most of his ground troops had already been placed on the _Salem_. The common areas, the galley, training rooms and storage bays were all empty and quiet. And the only sounds present on the bridge were the light breathing of living creatures and warm hum of machinery. Even the com lines had all gone silent. Briar focused on his mission, to defend and protect the _Salem_ at all costs. He wondered for a moment what Vera would have done in this situation were she here. A smile tugged at the corners of his cleft lips when he found the answer.

Briar cleared his throat, disturbing the silence and tense atmosphere on the bridge. "Major General Richardson had barely arrived in the forward area when a sniper's bullet removed a button from his shirt. He threw himself to the ground in terror. The men stood around with the greatest unconcern. The general, hands covering his head, yelled at a passing sergeant. 'Hey, isn't somebody going to kill that damned sniper?' The sergeant looked down at the general and replied: 'I guess not, general. We're scared that if we kill him the enemy will replace him with somebody who really knows how to shoot.'"

Chairs and seats creaked as Osa, Bagra, and the others on the bridge turned to face him. The silence had returned. Briar shrugged and leaned back into the Captains chair. So it was a lame joke. Osa began to giggle, followed by others, and then eventually Bagra. Even Briar began laughing.

"That is the worst joke I have ever heard Captain!" Osa laughed.

"Yeah, it was pretty bad wasn't it?" Briar agreed. Bagra in turn told another one just as terrible. Their laughter was broken by the impact wave of the first mine to explode around the _Mabus_' perimeter. All hands turned to their stations, processing incoming information.

"Captain, we are receiving incoming scans and reports from the Patton and Mac Arthur."

"Send them up here, and do not fire until we have a proximity warning on the Kriken. It goes without saying to make every shell count."

"We've lost five mines along the perimeter. Here they come Captain."

Briar gave his undivided attention to the view screen at his side. "Shields at maximum." He had adjusted the settings at his side, then read his live external feed. The red cloud was coming in fast. "Load long range scatter-shot and net mines." The cloud began to gain definition, the mid range scanner sent back filtered images of thousands of tiny wiggling bodies and masses.

Briar hesitated for a moment. He had never seen a battle on a scale like this. As much as he wanted her back, it was a good feeling that Vera was more than likely safe somewhere else. But needed to make sure that Angseth had a home to return to. Sending out his remaining fighters into this mess would be useless. He quickly sent out new orders for his remaining fighters to join up with the others near the _Salem_. The _Mabus_ would be one of the first outposts to get hit by this wave, the fighters would be more use as a secondary system to do detail work on the _Salem_.

"All the fighters are clear Captain. The Kriken are in range."

Briar sent out a quick warning to his officers aboard the _Salem_ and the other battle ships. He then addressed his small crew on the bridge. _"Fire at will."_

* * *

Serec and Sacul reached the main control room of the _Salem_'s jump gate. Serec had several assistants at his disposal, and he wasted no time in sending them out to various areas within the power core to assess the damage the Pirates had dealt. The jump gate mechanisms consisted of two main sections, the engine rooms, and the portal assembly. The engine room generated the alternating energy that then sent it to the portal assembly. In Serecs opinion, Confederation jump gate technology lacked a certain amount of finesse. Confederation jump gates were based off a sub-space dark-matter propulsion that left most travelers feeling sick. He had seen Angseth on more than one occasion grab the little paper bag near her seat and excuse herself to whatever unoccupied corner she could find to toss her cookies, or whatever other cute euphemism humans used to explain the regurgitation process.

The Gates relied mainly off crystals that vibrated at alternating rhythms to contain dark matter that was then used to power the portal. Serecs crew reported back that the crystals had already been broken down by the Pirates and packaged up. Reassembling them would be a process that would take over fourteen hours of continuous work. They didn't have that kind of time. Serec then hit upon another idea.

Sacul leaned over her brothers shoulder as he went to work furiously hammering away at holo keys. "What cha doin?"

"Looking."

"For what?"

"I'll let you know when I find it," he suddenly stopped. "There it is."

Sacul gazed upward at the main screen. It displayed nothing but line, after line, after line, of numbers. 'What's that for?"

"That is the energy readout of this area of space. Notice anything unusual?"

"No."

"Right here." Serec pointed. "See how these numbers dip into the negative?"

"Yeah,"

"There's an abandoned Space Bridge here."

Sacul could suddenly make out the pattern. "Oh! So that's what they look like? But the Confederation doesn't have the technology to make a Space Bridge. How did it end up here?"

Serec cleared the screen and began working the holo keys again. "Remember your history lessons?"

"Vaguely."

"Well, our side got the drop on the Ltaoclazeuq long ago by making a Space Bridge deep into one of their fortresses. It allowed several thousand of our warriors to enter and secure this area of space. I had been curious about finding remnants of lost Chozo technology when we patrolled the Far Reaches, but never really found anything other than ruins. This bridge appears to be fairly intact."

"So, we can send people through it?"

"Yeah, it will only take me a few hours to find out more information and calibrate the jump gate to use it. But even though we can use it, I don't have a means of doing so without alerting the Ltaoclazeuq." Serec glanced away from the holo screens for just a moment. "I've just received a message from Briar, the _Mabus_ has engaged in combat with the Kriken"

"Damn, that gives us ten minutes tops before the Kriken hit here." Sacul kept an eye on the door. She sideglanced Serec and saw him remove his holo glasses and place them on the terminal. "What are you doing?"

"Send my assistants out to help prepare the evacuation route. I need full concentration for this. Keep the Kriken off my ass." he reached into his suit, and pulled out a thin plain necklace with a pair of bolts threaded onto it. He pulled it off over his head, and his human guise faded away.

"Wow Bro, you look good," Sacul smiled as she gazed upon the true form of her sibling for the first time in thirty-five years. Like all other male Chozo, he was slightly smaller than the female. His head was covered with white and brown striped feathers that rose along the top of his head and partially down the center of his back, creating the impression of a massive crest. A black mask framed his brown eyes. His beak still bore the intricate carvings he had received when he took a mate. Somewhere across the universe another Chozo wore identical markings. His clothing was still that of a Confederation engineering officer, but they didn't cover the beautiful deep jade green of his scales.

Serec flexed his long callused fingers, his nails neatly trimmed, and then picked up his holo glasses again. He held them for a moment, pulling on them until the bar holding the lenses together elongated and bent slightly in the middle. Serec then set them back on his face, the bend resting neatly over his beak. "Keep the Kriken and whatever other forces off my butt until I get this thing up and running."

"Sure thing."

"I mean it Sacul, none of your games," his crest feathers lifted a little, emphasizing his point.

"Alright already. You act like you don't trust me."

One of Serec's large eye ridges lifted.

"Okay, okay, I admit that I hadn't been the most trustworthy person in the past

but please trust me just this once!"

Serec turned back around to begin working. "I've managed to bypass a few of the security systems. You'll have remote access to the ceiling turrets. Use them wisely."

Sacul chirped her affirmative, the pulled off her own PLAZMA. Serec looked over his shoulder as she pulled a small device from her pocket, similar to a data disk. She tapped a design on one side, causing it to emit a bright flash of light. Once the light faded, Sacul stood fully armored.

"You kept your Varia suit."

"Yeah, didn't you?"

"No, I felt I didn't need it anymore so I gave it to Samus as a back-up."

"Heh, your problem not mine. I've been upgrading mine constantly." Sacul spun on her toes. "What do you think?"

Serec wouldn't have chosen the black and pink color scheme, but that was his sisters doing. She had removed the larger shoulder spheres in exchange for floating exterior orbs. She had made the legs and arms more slender with greater articulation and less armor. But the armor that she had left was more aerodynamic, A pair of small wings extended almost two feet from the center of her back.

"What are those for?"

"Like you need to ask. With as much firepower as I've put into this thing, I needed some kind of stabilizer."

Serec went back to work. "Just give me time to think."

"You got it!"

* * *

Commander Bearn left his squad with orders to continue to the utilities sector to meet with Commander Thera. That had been a half an hour ago. Ten minutes ago he had received word from Briar that they had contact and began combat with the Kriken. Bearn wanted to hurry and join his troops. That Kanden thing had escaped on his watch. So he intended to be the one to bring the creature in. He raced through the halls and bays of the _Salem_ following the vent system. Bearn knew that it was still up there. Every time he drew closer to that thing he would receive some kind of com interference and part of the bastards ongoing internal monologue.

_Kanden has a hunch. A good hunch. The Kriken are coming. And Kanden needs to get to Kanden's beloved before the Kriken do. Penelope! Hold on, Kanden is coming! _

Bearn directed his attention to the length of pipe along the ceiling. Penelope? Who the heck was Penelope? Was she on this station? Was she a contact of his? With more questions than answers at the moment, he continued to keep pace with the thing. The hall dead-ended soon, and Bearn would need to either find another way around, or stop Kanden now.

Kanden continues to crawl through the ventilation shafts seeking his prey and moving silently and stealthily above the heads of the stupid Marines. They stupidly look around for a stupid something. what it is, Kanden does not stupidly care! Kanden has more important matters to attend to.

Bearn loaded a few missiles into his arm cannon then fired away at the ventilation shaft on the ceiling. His missiles found their target, opening a large hole in the shaft. Almost as soon as the hole opened, Kanden slid out, smacking the ground. Bearn beheld the maggot-like creature slithering around and gaining its bearings before he spoke. "Now, look, we both have got bigger things to deal with right now. A'ight?"

_The Silly Marine dares to speak to Kanden. It matters not to Kanden what the Marine wants._

"I'm taking you back to the holding cell. You can do this the hard way or the easy way."

_Kanden has already had a long nap. Kanden is now well rested and ready to complete his mission. Kanden must reach Penelope._

"Look, I will help you find her, wherever she is. You need to come with me first."

_Kanden laughs at the stupid Marine! HA-HA-HA-HA! Kanden cannot believe that the Marine thinks Kanden needs help to find Penelope! Kanden will forgive the silly marine. Not all creatures can be as perfect as the Amber Angel of Justice! Kanden turns and prepares to blast a mighty hole through the wall, mightily! _

Bearn loaded a paralyzer round used for subduing larger criminals. As soon as Kanden exposed his backside Bearn nailed him with it.

_Kanden was expecting the marine to betray him. Kanden must now teach the marine a lesson._

Kanden turned, squirming his grub-like body around until that one "eye" faced Bearn. His body then began to wriggle, layers of wrinkles and tube-like appendages extended from the grub. The plating that Bearn had mistaken for stripes clicked and locked together to become armor. A stocky, roughly eight foot tall humanoid form began to take shape. Armored arms, legs, shoulders, and finally an elongated neck and maggot-like head emerged. Four small eyes placed above an oval-shaped mouth studied Bearn skeptically.

_Kanden allows the Marine a moment to bask in the glory of his magnificent visage. Indeed, Kanden in the flesh is quite a sight to behold. Many cannot comprehend the majesty of his perfect form, the grandiosity of his shining visage! At this very moment, the awe of Kanden in full bloom is far beyond the resolution of the Marines optic nerve threshold. Kanden tends to forget, the glory of his transformation is not unlike the collapsing of a nearby star; enrapturing, provocative, inspiring, yet catastrophic in its process when beheld at such a close distance. No doubt, the tears of joy threaten to surge forth from the Marines sockets, within his fragile skull. His? Its? What does Kanden care? It's a Marine. A Marine with the unbridled fortune of witnessing the phoenix like birth of KANDEN, the Incredible, Ingenious Inferno! Kanden, the Glowing Guardian of Galactic…Galactic…Kanden! The Unflappable Undertaker of…_

And he continued on.

"I can understand why that cyborg in the cell next to yours went crazy."

_Do not interrupt while Kanden is thinking!_

Bearn loaded another missile into the cannon. The paralyzer shot had done nothing; it didn't even penetrate that slimy maggot hide. "I do not have time for your games!"

_And Kanden has no time for yours. Kanden is merciful. With that, Kanden turns, exposing Kanden's magnificent back, and using Kanden's mighty strength, punches a Kanden-sized hole through the wall. KA-BLAM! The wall cowers before Kanden, eagerly giving way before the Jaundice Judicator can deliver another station crunching blow! Sha-POW! Kanden steps through, light on his feet he dances among the debris, no the debris scatters before Kanden, fearful that they may meet the same fate as the wall!_

Bearn had taken cover as Kanden, as dictated, proceeded to charge up some kind of beam and blasted a hole through the wall. At that point Bearn realized that he could not bring Kanden in alone. The thing may be a moron, but by no means was it unable to fight back. Bearn cursed, following Kanden through the hole. If he couldn't bring the criminal in, the least he could do was monitor the creature's movements and warn others that may cross his path.

_Penelope, Kanden is coming! Be strong, baby!_

Bearn hoped that he could continue to tolerate Kanden's com interference. This was going to be a long fight.

* * *

Briar tightened his fingers around the grips on the command chair. The _Mabus_ rocked and vibrated with each blast from the main cannons. All around him holo screens flickered data on the Kriken force and the efforts of the other battle cruisers. The Patton was having a blast literally. The Patton had come equipped with experimental weaponry that could assault numerous small targets simultaneously, specifically designed for Kriken-like attacks. The _Mabus_ meanwhile was little more than a heavily armed fighter carrier. They were equipped with primarily long-range weaponry used for precision shots on larger vessels. As Osa had stated earlier, it was like taking out a swarm of wasps with a pistol.

"Damage report," Briar calmly asked.

"Minor damage on the outer hull, shields are holding for the moment!" Bagra responded. "Impact with main Kriken force in one minute!"

"Set shields at ninety-five percent," Briar scanned the holos at his side. The Kriken force was large, and would soon hit the _Mabus_ like a great wave made of little metal bodies. "Brace for impact and keep those surface mines ready."

The seconds ticked by slowly as the Kriken approached, then suddenly the ship shook violently, tossing Bagra from her chair. She quickly grabbed the nearest railing and pulled herself back into position.

"Sheilds have been heavily damaged, hull integrity compromised,"

"Lock the entire ship down. We can buy time while they work on the blast doors." Briar pulled up various holo screens to access information when suddenly a blackout swept through the ship. Briar held his breath as he gained his bearings in the sudden change in his environment. There was no light on the bridge, not one holo, not one standby light. "Osa? Bagra?"

"Here Captain," Bagra breathed, almost as if she were afraid of being located.

"What the hell happened?" He called into the darkness.

"I don't know. I had just received some odd scans when the power went out."

Osa's voice wavered as they listened to the steady tick and pop of numerous little feet along the exterior of the craft.

"They can't have gotten to our main generators already," Briar began tracing the side of the chair, searching for the release hook for his emergency suit.

As suddenly as it had gone out, the power came back on, and the bridge once again came to life. The main screens bore stand-by messages for a moment.

"Were we hit by an EMP?" Briar asked.

"No….frak." Bagra began accessing various holos.

"What?"

"The controls have been hacked!" Bagra's voice held a growl as she faced Briar.

"We've regained scans and internal security feed. Weapons systems are still rebooting. Readings show no less than five heavily armed Pirate battle ships coming in fast behind the Kriken force."

Briar accessed another holo and began sifting through data collected just before the blackout. His heart both lifted and sank when he recognized Angseth's override encryptions. He didn't have the time to have them properly changed over before she left again. The codes brought hope into his chest that Angseth was alive and well, but another thought came along with that one. Briar narrowed his eyes at the holo screen at his side. _Weavel, if you betrayed Angseth, I will rip your brain apart and feast on it._ He then addressed what remained of his crew. "Get into your suits, lock down what you can."

"Sir?"

"The Kriken are not going to take this ship," Briar hissed.

"Outer hull has been compromised. The Kriken have entered the lower cargo bays." Osa reported as she pulled her armor from it's storage compartment. "All interior defense systems are offline."

"Can you override?"

"Nothing is responding sir."

The doors to the bridge suddenly locked, another piece of Angseth's security functions. Briar finished donning the last piece of armor before pulling his helmet on. "Grab your weapons but hold your fire until I give the word."

"The pirate ships have opened their main cannons. They're preparing to fire." Bagra reported.

Briar turned to the main screen where hundreds of Kriken bodies squirmed. Breaking through the red and purple mass were two large barrels. Deep inside each, energy that resembled yellow light fluctuated and pulsed. He instinctively grabbed onto the nearest rail as the _Mabus_ vibrated and rocked with the force of the power in those twin cannons. "Damage report?"

Bagra steadied herself and studied the holo screen. "Uh…Nothing sir, a… they missed!"

"There is no way they could miss at point blank range," he pulled up a few security feeds from different locations around the ship. He could see the Kriken having their way with the main cargo bays, chewing on the doors and interior bulkhead. _Why would they knock out the internal security…unless they intended to board?_

Bagra and Osa began gathering as much information as the lockout would allow. "The pirate vessel is pulling up along starboard. Docking clamps have been ejected and have locked onto several airlocks."

Briar watched with surprising calm as the Pirates flooded the _Mabus_, then began tearing into the Kriken they found roaming and chewing the halls. The Pirates knew where they were going, and seemed to have an intimate layout of the ship. "They're coming for the bridge. Prepare for combat. Once again, hold your positions and weapons until I say otherwise."

"Yes Captain,"

Briar opened another panel on the command chair then pulled out a power rifle and his axe. Bagra and Osa began to gear up as well. Briar took a defensive position near the door, while Bagra and Osa also took cover in the room. Briar watched an image feed of the hall outside the door on his HUD. Slowly the pirates made their way through the ship, destroying all the Kriken they encountered on the way. It didn't take long for them to enter the hall leading to the bridge.

"Find cover." Briar said.

The door hissed as it opened. The figure on the opposite side of the door was not a Pirate. It was a Confederate Marine with Captain's bars across her right bicep. Angseth didn't look like the woman he remembered. Her armor had become even blacker, with blue light seeping between the joints and seams. He met her eyes through the blue-filtered haze of her visor. They were no longer brown, now they seemed flat silver-blue. Even her pupils seemed to have vanished. As he studied his beloved, he was unable to stop tears from escaping. He stood straight, his voice betrayed none of his feelings when he asked, "What's your plan?"

"Nevada,"

"Later. What is the plan?"

And just like that it was business between them again. "I want you to help me. I need you to be my eyes in the sky. The _Mabus_ has communications equipment that's better suited for this mission. The Siafu have agreed to help us protect the _Salem_ from the Kriken. I need you to monitor the Confederation and Siafu troops from the station. Please tell Admiral Arget'ni what our plans are. I know that the Marines will fire upon any Pirates they see, regardless of what I tell them. I need you to help me monitor the com lines to prevent the two groups from killing each other."

"And the Pir..er, Siafu?"

"The Siafu battleship Behemoth will remain docked. Weavel will be your contact on board that ship. I will lead the Siafu forces on the ground, along with whatever Marines want to tag along."

Captain Briar glanced past Angseth to Weavel standing further down the hall, surrounded by his fellow Siafu.

"I'll keep my com line open. I'm counting on you Briar," Angseth turned and started back down the hall, toward the _Salem_ and her destiny.

* * *

_**Authors Note:**_ Many apologies to Dave Sim, whose awesome character "The Roach" was the main inspiration for Kanden. May his "Merely Marvelous" glory live on.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Weavel had warned Angseth that the other Siafu might not take to her readily, Even though he had already announced and notified those in charge that she would assume temporary command of the invasion forces. Angseth had already guessed to that. Their culture had been so thoroughly destroyed by years of Ridleys rule that their social hierarchy had been reduced to primitive levels. The strongest individual was generally the leader. That worked well to Vera's advantage especially among the Siafu because brawn didn't always equal brains, although their commanders seemed to have an even balance of both.

Weavel had taken control of the _Behemoth_, with the combined forces of the other Siafu vessels, the _Juggernaut_, _Abomination_, and the _Nightmare_ at his command. It was up to him and Briar to convince Admiral Arget'ni that they intended no ill will against Confederation vessels or troops. Angseth traveled to the _Nightmare_ to meet her boarding party and their drop ships. Weavel had issued two loyal bodyguards, Fenris and Loki, to be at her side at all times. Even though they didn't have as much armor as some of the others she encountered, their quick movements and stunning grasp of Standard helped push them a little higher in her thinking. Even now she could see what Weavel was up to. He was trying to promote more brains in the system. She wished him luck. As much as she had wanted to turn down any escorts he could have given her, she knew that they were necessary. She still hadn't gotten fully accustomed to her new cybernetics, and her dreaded limp was back. As Vera stepped out of her transport into the docking bay of the _Nightmare_, she could see several drawn Plasma Scythes from the Elite onboard the ship. Angseth had anticipated a fight; she just didn't think it would be this soon.

Fenris and Loki stepped in to block the attack, but Angseth told them to stand down. If she were to take command of these troops, then she would need to do it under her own steam. At the time she hadn't realized that just the act of activating the Battlehammer would have affected the Siafu the way it did. Of the five Elites that had drawn weapons against her, three withdrew and stepped back. The remaining two jumped at her in unison. Angseth had never used a Battlehammer before, but she did know some basic swordplay. The Battlehammer was nothing like a normal sword. It was indeed a Plasma _Scythe_ The outer sharpened edge could deliver a nasty cut, but the inner edge was the focus of attack power. The blade was marvelous for close quarters combat, but also helped to deflect mid to long range weaponry as well.

Vera drew her arm back, winding up for a healthy blow. It wasn't difficult to track the movements of her foes. The Phazon that flickered along her skin and visor provided her with the ability to understand her foes intentions, and the power to counter them. She swung, neatly cleaving the first attackers Plasma Scythe in two, along with taking his head clean off his shoulders. Within the same movement, she turned her wrist slightly, and then took a half-step forward, driving the point of the Battlehammer deep into the chest of the second attacker. She finished taking her step, bringing her feet together, and lifting his still squirming body high into the air before her. Angseth felt rage and satisfaction well deep inside her. Satisfaction and pride, and much like she had done to Ridley hours before, her soul exploded with all the emotions she tried vainly to contain. The burst of Phazon traveled up her new cybernetic arm and into the body of the Elite impaled on her weapon. It danced for a moment before turning to ash and dust.

She quickly brought the Battlehammer down, flicking what ash and bone that remained off the surface before deactivating it. Angseth turned to the remaining three Elites, the Phazon traveled down her body before dispelling at her feet, vaguely resembling lightning. The last three fell to one knee, weapons at their side, heads bowed. She heard clicks and chirps fill the room as the amassed army of Siafu in the docking bay dropped to one knee and bowed respectfully. Vera turned her head toward one of her bodyguards. "What are they saying?"

Fenris stepped forward and whispered near her external microphone. _"They are saying 'Our Phazon Mistress has returned to us! Glory to the Siafu!'"_

* * *

Fleet Admiral Arget'ni sat quietly in the briefing room aboard the _Salem_, surrounded by her advisors and generals, along with the entire administrative staff of the _Salem_. All were silent as they studied the data coming from the perimeter. The Kriken were coming in fast. The battleships out there were not enough to cause the Kriken to even so much as pause in their approach. And if matters couldn't get any worse, now scans reveled incoming Pirate ships. Their forces were as ready as they could be aboard the _Salem_. All they could do was wait for the Kriken and then Pirates to come in range.

"We've just lost contact with the _Mabus_, and the _MacArthur_. Mines have been placed around the perimeter of the Ring," Admiral Keeton of the _Salem_ reported. Like most of the settlers in Draco, he was human, although his purple eyes and long ears betrayed his mixed heritage. "Most of the external weaponry had been knocked out by the Pirates, although the engineering teams you have sent seemed to have gotten a few of them operational."

Arget'ni nodded once, acknowledging the information. "Have they managed to get the jump gate working again?"

"We haven't received any information since the engineering officer from the _Mabus_ sent his assistants away."

"What? Why?"

"We have been unable to contact him since."

Arget'ni addressed the woman across the table, General Isoke of ground forces. "Gather some troops that aren't needed elsewhere and go down there to see if they need any assistance. We need that gate."

"Yes Admiral," she saluted and left.

Admiral Arget'ni ran her fingers over the holo keys, monitoring the Kriken's approach. They were still too far away for the weapons on the _Salem_ to do any good. With their supplies so low, they needed to make every shot count. Mirson's assistant Anderson coughed once at her side. He appeared to be more sensitive to the air quality on the _Salem_ than most of her other officers. Anderson had given her nothing but sound advice since he boarded her ship a month ago.

"Admiral," the com blipped.

"What is it?"

"We've just received a com from the _Mabus_. Captain," here the coms specialist paused. "…Captain Briar wishes to speak with you directly."

Anderson coughed suddenly, pausing a moment to pull a tissue from his pocket.

"I'll take it," Admiral Arget'ni checked her scans once more. If the _Mabus_ was able to get through the Kriken masses, then perhaps the _Mac Arthur_ had ridden the storm as well. She pressed a holo key and waited as Briar's image appeared above the table, flickering unsteadily for a moment before growing solid.

"Fleet Admiral, please forgive the poor quality of the signal, I'm kinda borrowing a com line."

"I read you loud and clear Lieutenant. What do you have to report?"

Briar fought the urge to correct her yet _again_. "I know that you've probably already seen the Pirate ships coming in on the external scans. I request that the _Salem_ nor any of the other vessels fire upon them. They're on our side."

"What?"

"Captain Angseth has made a bargain with their leader, they wish to help us defeat the Kriken."

"Am I hearing this correctly?" Arget'ni was skeptical.

"As I speak to you, I am using a com line from the Pirate vessel, Behemoth. Their General wishes to speak with you."

The officers gathered in the room as Weavel's image flickered above the table. He didn't skip a beat as he began to speak. _"I am Weavel, Prince and commanding officer of the Siafu."_

"The Si-who?"

_"We are a faction that have broken away from Ridley's command with the aid of Samus Aran and Captain Angseth. She has returned and is enroute to the Salem now. I would like to repay their efforts."_

Arget'ni studied both Briar and Weavel's holos. Anderson coughed again. "I wish that was my decision alone to make. I appreciate the offer, but I cannot guarantee the safety of your vessels or crew. There is still much hate between our peoples."

_"I understand that. I can assure you that my troops will not come in contact with Confederation forces. The Siafu and Kriken are also enemies, we know more about their battle tactics and abilities than the Confederation."_

"I can issue the order, Prince, but I cannot stop the men from firing upon you."

Briar then spoke up. "And that is where I come in Admiral."

Once again she studied each face. One feline and obviously none too pleased, the other an unreadable mask. "What do you have in mind?"

"Something myself and Angseth use in training simulations, the Battlegrid. Each Confederation soldier has a specific com frequency, as do Pi-Siafu troops. I can use the systems on the _Mabus_ to load a detailed map of the decks and floors of the _Salem_, then keep a live-update of the location of our forces. Since the _Salem_ is broken into two main sections, the Ring and Central Core, the Siafu will take position and defend the Ring, while the majority of Marines can be moved to the Central Core. That will allow the Siafu to navigate without the risk of encountering our Marines."

Arget'ni glanced upward at her officers, they seemed tired, skeptical, and afraid. But then again, their own supplies were low, and fending off the Kriken was not going to be easy. Finally she asked. "Anderson?"

"I must admit that I am intrigued. First that woman turns back an entire fleet, then manages to…" his throat began to tickle, causing his voice to raise an octave. "...recruit some of them. The Battlegrid will be like shooting fish in a barrel provided we can keep an accurate tally and fix on the," this time he stopped completely, and proceeded to cough so loudly Arget'ni was certain he would rupture a lung. "_Kriken_,-ahem. I think we should give it a shot."

"Admiral," another of her generals spoke up. "You can't be seriously considering this. They are Pirates, and that guy there is one of the most wanted criminals in the galaxy!"

Arget'ni scanned the holos once more. The Kriken had just reached the minefield around the Ring. Beside her Anderson cleared his throat again. "The _Petreaus_ is a diplomatic vessel. As a Fleet Admiral and its Captain, I always try to take the peaceful path in a conflict. If you have truly abandoned your pirate ways Weavel, and you can keep a grip on your men, then you are welcome to aid us. However, if you betray me, and in that, also betray Lieutenant Briar, Captain Angseth, and Samus, know that I will personally take out a price on your head and send Aran after you. Are we clear?"

_"I swear, no harm will come to Confederation troops by my men."_

"Good, Welcome aboard."

* * *

Once the order had been given, the remaining Siafu ships quickly moved to their assigned positions. Angseth had readied several boarding crews for the Ring. The Siafu and the Kriken arrived at almost the same time. The Kriken locked their bodies together to form simple machines or clusters to penetrate and invade several parts of the _Salem_ simultaneously. The red wasp-like wave slammed into the Ring and spilled over to the Central core. Immediately Confederation forces opened fire at the invading masses. Angseth guided her Siafu troops to key landing zones and the battle began in earnest.

The Siafu fought like demons, tearing through Kriken bodies and pieces of shielding and bulkhead. Several of their drop ships landed and docked near airlocks, while others dispatched troops along the surface of the station itself. Angseth rode with the main force, Loki and Fenris at her side. As promised the Confederation forces had cleared out, leaving the Ring and most of its weaponry to the Siafu.

"Keep an eye out, some of the Marines hadn't cleared out just yet. Keep the Siafu away from decks G and H, fourth quarter," Briar instructed over her com line.

"Will do," Angseth opened the com files. "Synchronizing com link frequencies in three, two, one…" Briar and Weavel complied, and her HUD loaded a map of the Ring along with the corresponding locations of the Siafu and Marines in the area. As an added bonus, Brair also included a hotline straight to Admiral Arget'ni. The map also filled with the current data on known Kriken intrusions. "This will help immensely," she arrived in the primary command center of the Ring to find several Marines and a few officers waiting for her.

"I never thought I'd never see the day when I would allow Pirates to enter my station."

"I apologize Commander Gretak." Angseth gave him a passing notice. "Please evacuate the Ring. Leave this to me."

"I hate to go against the Admiral's orders, but I don't like this one bit."

"That's not my problem commander. I currently have over two hundred Siafu at my disposal, and I'm so jacked up on Phazon that I don't know which end is up. So you will obey orders, or I will kill you."

Commander Gretak froze mid-step. Angseth's gaze was cold and heartless, and in that moment he knew that she would back up those words. "Your orders then, Captain?"

"Evacuate to the Central Core and assist in the assault there. I've got the Ring under control," she turned toward the control console, then began uploading the map and communications programming. "Loki, Fenris, I'll need your help to relay orders to the Siafu troops."

"Yes Mistress."

Angseth hesitated at the word "Mistress" but whatever floated their boat, and kept them under her thumb. "I don't know what you call your platoons or squads or whatever, but I need a good amount of force to move around the Outer Ring to secure several heavy artillery nests. Each nest needs about five bodies to run it." Loki immediately turned and screeched some sort of command. Angseth then updated the information and relayed it to the Admirals. "We have engaged the enemy," she watched on exterior monitors as the Siafu confronted the Kriken. "And it seems that we have a prayer to win this one now."

* * *

Dr. Bearn had her hands full with evacuation procedures. Part of the Central Core of the _Salem_ had been set aside for emergencies such as these. The area encompassed a central part of decks K, L, and M. This area also had an interior hull and could be completely shut off from the rest of the station. It was equipped with moveable walls and planar shields that allowed for more versatility in the space. Advanced medical facilities had also been placed here, along with a secondary command post, where the Admirals and other CO's had gathered. The lower section of M had been made of moveable floors and walls that could form an emergency hangar for ships to land for evacuation purposes. The hangar itself had a straight shot to the jump gate that was contained in the Ring. Considering the situation, the retreat point was ideal.

The people of both the _Salem_ and _Seattle_ were scared, they were tired, and the presence of pushy Marines wasn't making it any better. The citizens of the _Salem_ were a little more jumpy than those of the _Seattle_. Those of the _Seattle_ just wanted the confusion and loss to stop. The Marines had been loading dropships for the better part of the last hour, and each ship was crammed to capacity. Several temporary medical stations had been erected to aid the wounded, and they were many. Everything from missing limbs to extreme bronchial infections due to poor environmental conditions were clogging up the medical stations. Even more Marines had been pouring in since Admiral Arget'ni had dictated that all Marines retreat to the Central Core, leaving the Ring to be defended by a second party, whoever they were. Civilians of course had priority over the Marines, but most of them had already been stabilized.

Sakari had been making a few rounds, checking in on other medical officers and a few of their more critical patients. Her com beeped and she cursed. The cryo pods had been moved from the _Mabus_ and were now housed here. She had hoped to safely place them on transport vessels before they finished thawing, but an internal alarm had already been tripped. Admiral Mirson's life signs had been detected and he was about to wake up. Dr. Bearn quickly cut her tasks short, then ran through the crowded halls until she reached the storage room that contained the cryo pods. Several Marines had used them as tables to enjoy what could be their last meal.

"I need all of you to move."

"Come on Doc, we've been on guard duty for twelve hours straight, let us at least eat!"

"You'll be eatin' the wrong end of my rifle if you don't move yo' ass right now!" Sakari quickly moved some of the food canisters aside to another "table," then checked the read-out along the side of the cryo-pod. Admiral Mirson's life signs were stable, and getting stronger by the minute. "This couldn't have come at a worse time," she breathed, yet stood ready with her basic equipment to ensure his vitals remained stable. As soon as Mirson was breathing on his own, the pod vented the air inside, the lid lifted, then broke apart in segments, exposing the Admiral.

Mirson coughed, his lungs still adjusting to the difference in pressure and air quality. His eyes slowly opened, his pupils dilated for the moment so only a thin rim of their normal brown was visible. "Where?" His voice cracked.

"Admiral Mirson? I am Dr. Sakari Bearn, Medical Officer of the Battlecruiser _Mabus_. How are you feeling?"

"Like crap," he attempted to sit upright.

"Please lay back down sir, your muscles still might not have recovered from your stasis sleep."

"Stasis?"

"Please listen to me Admiral, I don't have much time and there is a lot you need to know. You are on board the _Salem_."

"How did I get on the _Salem_? The last thing I can consciously remember is attending the annual Summit on Norion."

"Norion? Admiral, a summit meeting hasn't been held on Norion for…five years sir." Dr. Bearn felt her heart drop to her stomach. The Admiral had been in stasis for that long and didn't know it.

"What kind of joke is this? I demand to know who is behind this!" he sat up again, and this time succeeded.

"Admiral, please relax. I will get some water for you. As soon as I've made sure that you've recovered, I will take you to the command center."

Mirson suddenly reached out and grabbed Dr. Bearns arm. For an old fart that had just come out of a five-year cryo, he still had an impressive grip. "Please, tell me if my daughter is alright."

"Yes sir, she is." Sakari addressed the marines that had been enjoying their meal a moment before. "I need all of you to guard this man with your lives, make sure he is comfortable."

"Who is-"

"You better show some respect. Stand at attention in the presence of a System Admiral," Dr. Bearn then stepped into the main corridor. First to get a canteen for the Admiral, and secondly to find another commanding officer to assist in getting the Admiral situated and briefed. As she stepped into a supply closet, the floor and walls around her began to vibrate and shake violently. Sakari jumped into the corridor, and began looking around. At first she thought that the Kriken had already penetrated this deeply into the station. She looked up as the ceiling of the hall bowed downward, and rolled quickly out of the way. She pulled her small pistol and took cover behind a crate. The ceiling bent and shattered, spilling a very large and glowing yellow creature into the emergency shelter. Her com line suddenly cackled to life with one long mournful howl.

_PEEEE-NEEE-LOOOO-PEEEEE!_

Sakari covered her ears, even though the voice may as well have been inside her own mind.

_The floor was tougher than Kanden had anticipated, but it was still no match for his MIGHTLY MIGHT! Kanden pauses to examine his surroundings. It seems as if Kanden has mighted himself smartly into the tender meat of a Leaper colony!_

Dr. Bearn aimed her pistol at the things head, then hesitated when she saw her husband drop down shortly after. "Zaine! What the hell is that thing?!"

"It's a-"

_Kanden steels himself against the gore, and glances around the room. Could Penelope be here? She is close, Kanden can feel her pain! He senses that she is somewhere near! Be strong Penelope!_

"Zaine! Get it out of here!" Dr. Bearn yelled.

One of the Marines behind her called out from his gurney. He had been placed there to recover from a vicious bacterial infection in his lungs due to poor suit maintenance. "Are there still civilians out there?"

"I was told that everyone had been evacuated and sent here." Sakari kept her sights on Kanden as it began to walk up the hall.

_Kanden roams the halls, searching frantically for his beloved. No! He does not see her here! Where is Penelope? Where is Kanden's love?!_

"Penelope? Does that thing still have family out there?" the Marine sat up, one Private Jones. "I knew we must have missed someone!" Before Either Zaine or Sakari Bearn could interject, Jones turned around and announced to his two companions. "Hey! Did either of you search decks P and Q?"

"No, we had been told that they had been cleared before we arrived."

"That thing still has family out there! Maybe even kids! And I'm just laying here!" Jones swung his legs off the side of the gurney.

_Kanden suddenly spins around to face the pathetic Marine. Yes, the small, frail, sickly, pathetic human is right! He is indeed just lying there, marinating in a rich, hearty broth of misery and suffering. It disgusts Kanden to his soul! Kanden reaches down and grabs the Marine by his collar._

Jones yelped as one huge fist grabbed the bottom plate of his suit, then lifted him off the gurney and into the air effortlessly.

_Do you have family out there, in the battle? Kanden inquires, his voice trembling with emotion._

"Well, not really, my squad is still out there, fighting off the Kriken."

_Then why linger here? Why don't you go to them?_

"I…"

_Don't you-and here Kanden's voice cracks for effect, a small weakness seemingly exposed in his otherwise impenetrable nature-LOVE them, Marine!?_

"I …"

_If you love them, then go to them! Do not let them perish like squishy vermin underfoot! Fight with them! Love them to your end, which may well be deep within the corrosive innards of some Kriken, but die with pride! Honor with all your Marinely MIGHT your BROTHERS IN ARMS, Kanden screams! These complaining immobile sacks of meat scattered around the room disgust him! Muster your gun, your courage, heart, soul, spleen, bladder and FIGHT! With that he drops the stunned Marine back onto the gurney, he crosses his arms and shames the others around him for their cowardice. Kanden would turn his back but he does not harbor complete ill will to such ilk. For Kanden is merciful._

Sakari watched stunned as the injured around her began to move and stand from their beds and gurneys.

"He's right. What am I doing here when I should be out fighting the enemy?"

All around her, Confederation forces suited up and began taking up their weapons once more. The ones with missing limbs complained about their inability to fight. Dr. Bearn turned to see one man stand, bandage up the stump of his left arm, then slip into armor and joined the mass exodus out of the safety of the med bay.

_Yes! Yes! Fight for love! Fight for Penelope!_

"And Bridget!"

"And Jennifer!"

"Ricky!"

"Freddy!"

"Ganthatrkaua!"

…_Yes, yes, them too! Fight 'til you die! FOLLOW KANDEN!_

One enthusiastic Medic charged ahead yelling, "Follow Kanden!"

Commander Bearn glanced apologetically at his wife and her empty med bay. "Uh…I need to,"

"Follow Kanden, babe."

Zaine kept close to Kanden as he traveled through the emergency shelter, scaring the civilians and causing the Marines to go on alert. He seemed like a big glowing Pied Piper, somehow inspiring Marines to join the battle once more. All the while triumphant and inspirational music played over Bearns com line, and the lines of those that Kanden came near. The mega-maggot was making a B-line right for the hangar bay, passing through doors, the occasional wall, and any group that stepped in his path.

He reached the bay, and paused momentarily to assess his surroundings. The bay doors were closed, and would remain so until they received the go-ahead from the jump gate. Groups of drop ships sat clustered with citizens inside, crying children off all species, but mainly human, sat in a line on the floor of the bay. Bearn wondered if he could get a few of the other troops to help him immobilize Kanden, but also knew that the beast wouldn't come willingly and possibly put many lives needlessly in danger. Kanden began walking again, right for the primary doors.

At first it seemed as if Kanden would force open the main hanger doors and let in a flood of Kriken, but the bug-man turned on his heel, still spouting nonsense over the com lines and lamenting Penelope. Instead Kanden approached an air-lock, calmly activated the door, stepped inside, closed the door, then jettisoned himself into space.

For a moment Bearn couldn't digest what had just happened. The thing really was crazy. It had just committed suicide. Bearn quickly switched to the executive com band and was about to ask for an external view feed, when a shout from one of the fighter pilots positioned in the space between the Core and the Ring interrupted.

_"What the heck is THAT!? Looks like a…man?"_

Bearn ran to one of the control stations and pulled up the image on a holo monitor. Kanden wasn't visible, but in his place was a bright glowing yellow-green dot. It slammed into the first cluster of Kriken, there was a bright flash of light, and then the Kriken scattered. The dot kept going along his path.

"Bearn, this is Briar. What is that missile that was just shot out of the emergency bay doors?"

Zaine sighed. "Maaaan…"

"Could you repeat?"

"It wasn't a missile. That's the prisoner I was chasing."

"I'll do a background check. What is the prisoners name?"

"Listen long enough and you'll hear it."

* * *

Sacul didn't understand what her brother had been bitching about all this time. Granted they hadn't seen each other in _years_ but it seemed as if he didn't change in the least. He was still cranky, grouchy, and results-driven. He had asked her to keep the bad guys off his back while he got the jump gate running, and that so far had been the easy part. Sacul flit around the room, halls, and external areas like a cybernetic fairy. Her advanced Chozo armor rendering most of the Kriken she encountered to paste. But in the end she felt that she would thank her brother. Sacul had been waiting for an opportunity to test out the newest weaponry on her armor. Well…that and Kriken was a Chozo delicacy.

The first wave of Kriken had been laughable. They had crept in through an air-lock, eating and chewing away at the metal and shielding. Sacul had been met with the first blast from an Imperialist she had ever been on the receiving end of. The Imperialist was the Kriken weapon of choice, a mid to long range beam weapon that hurt like hell if unprepared. That was the only free shot Sacul allowed them to get in. Her armor was equipped with a micro munitions factory that allowed for a never-ending supply of missiles and charged pulse shots. She had also worked to amplify the maneuverability of the suit as well. The down side to all the advancements had been the decreased defenses, and her susceptibility to recoil from her larger weapons. Of course the idea of all the fire-power had been not to get hit in the first place. All those thoughts were pushed to the back of her mind as she let all of the missiles and charged shots in her arsenal fly at her targets. Insectine bodies scattered and splattered all over the halls and external hull.

"Sacul! Would you please stop playing around and keep an eye on the gate?!" Serec hissed over her com line.

"Little Bro, do you want me to baby-sit you or the gate?" she snapped back. But she had been trying to be careful with the Kriken. She wanted to save at least one or two of them for potential steaming in beer later.

"I almost have everything ready, but a couple of the generators on the gate had been knocked offline."

"And you want me to go out there and fix it right?"

"Precisely."

Sacul headed for the nearest hole the Kriken had made in the stations hull. "Will you be alright Serec?"

"Yeah, I have a few ceiling turrets to keep me company. Now get going!"

Sacul cleared the entry point with a few well-timed explosives, sending masses of Kriken back into space where they were then picked off by incoming fighter pilots. In the distance, she could see the Central Core covered in a carpet of red and purple bodies, eating and chewing, absorbing pieces of the _Salem_ into their collective. She turned her attention to the jump gate, located roughly fifty yards from her current position, and covered in Kriken. Sacul charged up another beam attack and began clearing a path through them, advancing slowly and trying not to get flung out into space. Out of the corner of her scanners, she noticed a bright glowing yellow dot. Even in space, where light and dark seemed to play odd tricks, she could make out the hue and color of this object clearly.

She closed the distance to the jump gate, and had almost set her foot on the gate itself when the com in her helmet was suddenly overridden by a strange signal. It almost sounded like….music?

_I…Am…Kan-den man! I-am-Kan-den-Man-I-am KAN DEN MAN!_

Sacul paused for a moment, and watched as the glowing yellow dot grew closer, gradually taking on the form of a humanoid creature. It didn't seem to wear a suit, and maneuvered in cold space as if it had been born there. Sparse black-toned armor covered key points on its body. It was grabbing Kriken in mid-air and using them as improvised weapons to smash and destroy other Kriken. Sacul couldn't hold back her laughter as it tore a few limbs from one Kriken and began to use them as nunchaku to attack others in the area.

He…Will…Find his meal! In the cri-spy Kri-ken field!- Prepare! For Kanden is coming!

The yellow thing, this Kanden, flew through space, spinning and flinging the Kriken legs, and landed heavily on the main frame of the jump gate, blasting Kriken off in several directions.

"Sacul! Have you checked on the generators yet?"

"Not yet, I'm making my way there now," Sacul began sprinting toward the gate, the Kriken had lost interest in her and now turned on the bigger threat, Kanden. She slowed as she neared the gate's frame. The Kriken were piled four deep atop and around Kanden. "He's like a big bug zapper," she mumbled. Every few moments, her com screeched from electrical and radiation interference, and Kanden's body would explode in yellow-white light, sending charred and baked Kriken remains into space. "ooohhh….roast Kriken…I haven't had that in a loooong time."

Hehehe…the Kriken still rush Kanden stupidly. So moth-like these clattering crustaceans, in their suicide flight to the ethereal flame that IS Kanden! Perhaps Kanden has been too easy on them, perhaps they are too stupid to realize that their ultimate demise is at hand! Kanden has warned you once! Kanden has been merciful! But Kanden's mercy reserves are burning fumes in their desperate struggle to keep running! Once exhausted, these reserves will resort to their secondary source, and begin to broil the viscous goulash that is sadism! O' tragedy! Kanden can already feel the bloodlust surging to the surface—does this register in your oatmeal-like brain pulp as I grasp your cranium in my hand, young Kriken drone? Despair not, as I lubricate the outer hull of this rusty vessel with your gelatinous headstuffs, foe, for the rest of you may relish in the seething Nirvana of Kanden's empty gut later on! For now, the Jaundice Juggernaught feasts on DANGER, to fuel his pursuit of Penelope, his illusive sweetness! Kanden will barter a loan for an infants breath of tolerance—SLA-CRUSSSHHH—for he can no longer afford mercy!

Sacul had long ago hit the record button to examine the interference on her com at a later date. Hell, anything that could hack through a _Chozo_ encryption was worthy of study.

Kanden raises his fists high into the air, and summons the power within him! His body glows with passion and strength! Strength for Penelope! Strength for the smiting of their foes! THA-WHAM! He slams his fists to the floor! Sending waves of crippling power through the fragile metal and into the skeletal frames of the surrounding Kriken! They scream and cry in pain! But Kanden pretends not to hear! Kanden has no time for the weak! For Kanden is strength incarnate! A God worthy of the title 'Saffron Seraph!'

As his fists hit the frame of the Gate, Sacul watched as the force of his Volt-Driver jump-started the primary generators. She commed Serec. "Hey, uh…try it now."

"Okay, initializing….and hey! How did you do that?"

"That wasn't me. That was the glowing yellow thing over there."

"The energy anomaly I've been tracking?"

"Energy Anomaly? More like Autonomous Wrecking Ball."

"Yeah, I'm alerting the Admiral that the gate is operational and they can start sending ships through."

"Where's the exit point?"

"Just outside the London."

Sacul cackled. "You're sending them all clear to the other side of the galaxy?!"

"Can you think of any place safer than the Cygnus sector right now?"

"Well, sending em there would work, but,"

"I can't make an exit, I can only send them through to the very end of the bridge."

"As long it doesn't fry the Human's form of comprehension of time-space too much."

"I know it's a lot like giving a cockroach a ride on a space shuttle, they can't understand let alone care, but it's for the better."

"Wait a sec, the big guy's doing something." Sacul skittered a little further up the surface of gate to gain a better perspective of Kanden's actions. Kanden charged another Volt Driver, this time focusing the energy into one point, and blasted another hole in the hull of the Outer Ring. "The Confederation's gonna have one huge repair bill when we're done here." Kanden then slipped inside, taking all of his ridiculous com interference with him.

"See if you can keep the Gate clear of Kriken while it charges and the transports go through. You don't need to kill them all off, just don't let them chew on the Gate too much. As ships go through, they'll get the jolt of their lives," Serec ordered.

Sacul looked back over her shoulder toward the Central Core, and the empty space separating them. Kanden had left it a wasteland of Kriken bodies and random pieces of debris she supposed were fighters at one point in time. "I'll do what I can, but I think the battle has moved on."

"Sacul, these are Kriken, the battle is never over until the last one is dead."

* * *

Angseth released a breath she didn't know that she had been holding as orders for evacuation were finally relayed over the com lines. _I knew we could count on you Serec._ Admiral Arget'ni authorized the remaining battleships to enter the restricted space between the Outer Ring and the Central Core to provide cover for the escape pods and transport vessels. Meanwhile Angseth had her hands full with the task of defending the Ring from the invading Kriken. The Siafu were brave and self-less to a fault. They would stand their ground to the last man, but lacked certain battle strategies that would ensure their victory. They tended to believe in brawn rather than brains. If this was all that was left of the Siafu, then Weavel certainly had his work cut out for him.

Vera quickly relayed new orders to the gunners around the Outer Ring, as well as keying Briar in. "Provide cover fire for the transports. Kill any and all Kriken that enter your sights. Aim true, if any civilians are caught in the crossfire, I will personally hunt you down and rip out your hearts."

Several squeaks and affirmative growls responded. Briar began relaying new orders and coordinates to the Admirals. Angseth went back to studying the maps and Battle Grid. She tried not to make any sudden moves, and tried to clear her mind by breathing deeply. There was a pain deep inside her chest that made itself known with every beat of her heart. Her stomach twisted and churned. _Too much. I took in too much Phazon. How long can I tolerate this before it kills me?_

"Mistress, the Kriken have invaded the Ring, their numbers flood the inner halls." Fenris reported.

Vera nodded. "Gather your Elites. It's time we entered the battle."

"As you wish Mistress."

"And quit calling me Mistress." Angseth downloaded the appropriate maps and Battlegrid, then left it all in Briars hands. Somehow deep within her, she knew that a bit of killing would do her some good, allow her to burn off all this excess energy, make her heart cease fluttering and maybe return her stomach to normal again. Yes, kill. Kill and never stop killing until the halls grew slippery from spilled blood. That caused her to smile. Oh Anger was such a tangible beast now. She didn't want to keep it caged any longer. All of her life she had suppressed all of the anger and frustration so that she would fit into normal day to day Confederation life, bowed to her superiors, ignoring her inner voice telling her to obliterate everything in her path. Now she no longer cared for morality, for rules, for chain of command. This was war, and everything was fair as long as she was still alive, and _they_ weren't. It had taken her a long time to realize that life wasn't fair, there was no overseeing force out there to justify and enforce right and wrong, there was only the strong and the weak. Primal thinking had saved her ass in the past, and as her newly acquired Battlehammer split open her very first Kriken skull, Vera realized what a sweet, strong, heady elixir the pain and suffering of others could be.

They were faceless blank mobs composed of thorns and liquid. She remembered nothing except the bright flash of blue as her Battlehammer found one victim after another. The Kriken, a feared race? She snorted with disgust that she had ever believed it. They ran toward her, equally as dumb and tactless as the Siafu that fought and died around her. Her body reacted without conscious thought, bitter and angry as she slaughtered her way through dark halls. Angseth had become the raging Demon that Weavel had cleverly distanced himself from by staying aboard the Behemoth.

And Vera would have continued to carve herself a path of bodies if it weren't for a wayward Volt Driver attack that snapped her out of her rage. From somewhere to her right, a slow-moving beam of yellow energy slammed into her right hip, sending waves of electricity through her new artificial leg and arm, shorting out the circuits within. She fell to the floor, the chaos clouding her mind cleared allowing for a moment to gather her wits. All around her Kriken and Siafu battled, Plasma Scythes cut the air and Kriken weaponry fired. Angseth watched her HUD as her new cybernetics began a reboot procedure that would take a few moments to complete.

Angseth lay still, the fingers of her left hand interlaced with the loose grating on the floor. If she stayed in one place she could wait it out and join the battle once her limbs recharged. She watched through Phazon haze as another bright yellow bolt flew into the room and lay waste to half the Kriken and Pirates present.

And what does Kanden find here, previously obscured by the oceans of Kriken? A dead Marine?

Vera felt her eyes widen behind her visor as a creature that appeared to be half-maggot half-man stepped from an adjacent room and into the small corridor. It came closer to her, her cybernetics were still rebooting. She never had to worry about that with the Chozo mechanics. Ridley had really screwed her over when he destroyed them.

What is this little pathetic Marine doing so far away from the others? And fighting alongside Pirates no less. Kanden is intrigued.

Angseth suddenly grabbed the grate under her fingers, and rolled, lifting it from the ground and using it as a shield between herself and Kanden.

_Kanden is shocked! It's alive!_

Angseth braced her right leg underneath her, then swept with her left, trying to knock Kanden's feet from underneath him. As soon as her heel connected with the maggoty flesh, it absorbed all impact, rendering her attack useless. Not wasting any time, Angseth rotated in the opposite direction and growled as she pulled the grate through the air towards the glowing man's midsection. Wanting to completely nullify the enemy before her, she aimed for the wall on the other side of him as she swung. The attack found its mark, but only served to drive the maggot man backwards into that wall and did not do much at all to stun him. However her second objective had been completed, she had bought herself enough time to allow her limbs to finish rebooting, and they were now fully operational. Angseth hissed in anger as she tossed the grate, now twisted into a useless metal hunk, away from her and burst her Battlehammer to life.

_Kanden honestly did not see the hapless marine earlier, so thoroughly entrenched in Kriken-tangle as to be indiscernible. It makes sense that he is angry with Kanden, but what _rage_! So soon after taking a hit from Kandens mighty beam, and with formidable strength and speed! Kanden dares to guess that this marines tortured soul has been, perhaps, _energized _by Kanden powers, and evolved to a higher, closer-to-Kanden state of being! Such would make for a formidable foe indeed, but in all seriousness, even as the soldier's bizarrely powerful and unmarinely energy sword wisps with a song towards Kandens face there is no ill will within for this fellow Fighter for Might and Right. Nay, for now Penelope is still the quest, and Kandens marvelous defensive stratagem shall be known!_

Kanden honestly did his very best to proceed down the corridor in the direction he believed was the end of his path, while deflecting Angseths relentless attacks. However, try as he might, Kanden could not make any progress, and was actually doing his very best to stay on his feet, to his great surprise. Meanwhile, Angseth had made it up in what remained her mind that this glowing hulk would pay for incapacitating her, and making her all to aware that she was still vulnerable, that she was still far from repaying Ridley or finding Samus. Raw anger drove her every move, not so much valid reason anymore. She managed to knock the maggot man to and fro with enough effort, but the creature did not seem to be accumulating any noteworthy damage. This only served to make Angseth even angrier, and the sickening pulse of Phazon began to renew steadily.

_Whoa! This guy is REALLY taking being shot accidentally HARD! He should be happy that he's still able to move! To jump, laugh, cry, sing, perform cruiser splitting upward kicks at Kandens groin! Kanden will be significantly more discrete when ka-powing large nests of villains from now on. You just never know if there might be a short fused mega-marine nestled in there for warmth. HEY YOU! MARINE! KANDEN DOES NOT WISH TO DO BATTLE WITH YOU! Understand? Kapice? Comprende? Wakarimasu? Spreken se commo—_

The glowing giants internal monologue was silenced as he was kicked through the wall and nearly back into space. If not for a lucky snag of torn hull in his hand he would be set adrift in the vacuum and back to square one. Even as he pulled himself back towards the inside of the hallway, Angseth grabbed hold of Kandens elongated neck with one hand and primed the Battlehammer with the other. As Angseth swung the blade, she heard a strange sound, like jello being quickly sucked through a copper straw as she watched the yellow creature shrink before her.

She now held in her hand the lower half of what looked very much like a maggot, only about 2 feet in length and most of a foot wide, glowing yellow-green like the monster it once was and brandishing a skull-like pattern on its front half. She held the giant bug only for a moment before her Battlehammer cleaved it into two unequally sized parts. The primary body flew forward, bounced off of her helmet like a soccer ball with small legs like a horseshoe crab and back into the hallway, leaving what remained of it in her grasp. It resembled a shiny, black thorn about the size of her hand with a bulbous gland at the base, and it blinked a faint, yellow light just before it detonated.

The blast sent her tumbling back into the corridor, and with good timing at that. The hole into space began to rapidly close with emergency sealing foam. She heard the skittering of the maggot bug nearby, and wasted no time in firing her converted Battlehammer at the source of the noise. Vera gained her feet with a snarl, and gave chase. The bug wriggled out of the debris then made a break for it down the hall in the direction the yellow man had been heading. Angseth missed a few shots that would have found their target had her rational mind not kicked in briefly to consider, at least for a moment, what the hell just happened. A creature twice her size, outweighing her by at least several hundred pounds, shrunk down to the size of a watermelon, threw itself at her head and made off like a frightened squirrel while its rear end blew up in her hand. Never mind that Chozo tech allowed her to do pretty much the same thing, the strangeness of that event warranted at least a mental hiccup.

Kanden, now a tenth his size and five times faster, skittered his way swiftly down the hall into the company of some pirates. He was surprised to see some had made it this far, but they were too engrossed in their fight with the Kriken to see him enter the corridor. Pirate and Kriken alike jumped with a start as Kanden quickly slithered between, over and under alien feet on his way to the other side of the skirmish, both parties blinking curiously at the thing that just zoomed by.

_One side, people! Friend and foe alike, or just foes, well any individual present, really. Kanden must break through, BREAK ON THROUGH TO THE OTHER SIDE! Kanden does not fly in fear as it may seem, PERISH the thought! Kanden wishes to lead his most feral opponent to a more suitable battle venue, far from the frail corpses of unsuspecting onlookers! In what remains of Kandens nearly extinct mercy, Kanden does you all a favor! No, no need to thank Kanden, for conquest lies ahead and Kanden must not dilly-dally! The Beast with the Burning Blade has reminded Kanden that time is of the essence! So out of the way! Vamoose! Flee! See, Kanden did his best to warn you, did he not!?_

The owner of the feet Kanden eventually smacked into the air wound up belonging to general Fenris, who as it turns out was a few seconds away from being decapitated by the Imperialist of one of the more skillful Kriken marksmen that Kanden had passed up the hall earlier. The unlucky assassin was promptly descended upon by a group of nearby Siafu, who swiftly pried the weapon from its claw (at the shoulder) as Angseth ran past them. Upon reaching Fenris, she actually paused to grasp his arm and hoist the soldier to his feet, who seemed confused afterwards but it was difficult to tell with the limited range of Siafu facial expressions.

"You're still alive." Angseth stated.

"…_You care?" _ Fenris inquired.

Angseth shrugged as she limped down the corridor, but now with a slightly quenched fire of rage from the subtle drops of mental clarity. The oddness that just took place over the last twenty minutes was just too mind-boggling to let slip by. And that…crazy rambling she heard over her com. Was it coming from the yellow maggot-man-bug? All the same, whether or not the thing was some new Kriken weapon, which was absurdly unlikely, she still needed some answers and whatever it was it was powerful enough to brush off her heaviest hits and keep going. Things were still volatile here.

_Hangar B! Yeah, that's the ticket!_Kanden proclaimed as he read the large door at the other end of the big room he had just entered. _Daddy's coming, baby!_

At a few inches from the door, Kandens skittering flight ended abruptly as a plasma shot ricocheted off the floor just ahead of him, followed by a fierce shout of "HOLD IT!" several yards behind him. Kanden curled his segmented bug body in on itself as he turned to fix his gaze on the attacker, and the glow of his body rippled with disapproval.

…_Through dangers untold, and hardships unnumbered, Kanden has fought his way through the labyrinth of death and BEYOND the Kriken swarm to take back the treasure they have stolen from him! Be forewarned, tenacious Marine, not to test the elasticity of Kandens patience, for like his mercy it too is finite. Kanden will not be barred from his desire a second time. She lies within this gate, and you will regret denying her freedom! If your decision is made, then show Kanden your TRUE MIGHT!_

Angseth was dumbfounded by the Shakespearian epic that was spewing out of this creatures mouth. It almost sparked enough of a laugh from her to forget her rage entirely. This thing was so obviously not affiliated with and in no way like the Kriken, but it was just too strong and technologically advanced to be an ordinary civilian. The yellow monster was also completely out of its mind, no doubt the poor victim of some Rovian lobotomy experiment gone awry, and probably deserved a great deal of pity from any normal individual. But when the beast suddenly transformed back into the humanoid hulk it had been and aimed a live arm cannon in her direction Angseth was immediately brought back to reality, and so was a great deal of her rage.

Now she remembered. The thing had shot her, it was a threat to her plain and simple. Raising the Battlehammer and switching to long-range mode, Angseth advanced on the maggot-hulk while the two warriors traded shots. When they were close enough, they exchanged munitions for fist and foot, clashing and striking at one another with equally explosive force. None of the attacks, throws or shots were killing blows, but rather attempts at placating either party. The only body taking severe damage was really the room itself, and after nearly half an hour of mindless brawling it looked nothing like the brightly lit, pristine chamber it once was. And in its center, the two warriors, exhausted and hardly able to stand, regarded each other carefully and wracked their minds for any stray plan that may have gone unnoticed in the soup of aggression.

"…Who…WHAT are…you…? I completely forgot…why we were fighting in…the first place." Huffed Angseth first, finally finding the breath to speak.

…_Kanden…is…what Kanden is. Kanden is Kanden…That is an…explanation in and…of itself. Kanden has…no clue who you are…um…Kanden narrows his eyes so…that the vision can sharpen to see…the nameplate of "Jones", the Marine?_

It had never occurred to Vera that the Luminoth didn't bother to research the proper way to spell her name when they made her armor, and she had been walking around with the wrong name on her suit this entire time. Angseth could not audibly sigh loud enough within the confines of her helmet, so she unlatched and removed it for the time being, just so that she could get her bloody point across "…My name…is Angseth, you moron. And just what the hell does that mean, _Kanden is Kanden_, anyway? It doesn't explain a damned thing! Are you someone's idea of a joke, some random prank? I can't even take fighting with you seriously if you're going to narrate it second by second! I'm done anyway, I just don't have it left in me, so now it's time for some answers. And if you have any vocal chords please use them, because you talking and playing random sound bites in my head is really irritating."

_Kanden does not know what you want Kanden to say. It is the inner ear of the listener that Kandens melodious voice finds, as well as various other frequencies of a number Kanden has not completely found limits to. All of the confessing that needs confessing has been confessed, with the exception of Kandens quest. Kanden must find his beloved Penelope and carry her to the safety of the stars, away from this inferno of plasma shots and Kriken guts. Kanden acknowledges your strength and skill, Marine Angseth, but every moment Kanden is not searching for his beloved is a step towards her DOOM!_

Just when Angseth thought things couldn't get any stranger, she could almost swear she could see some of the floor through the Kanden-things foot. She wasn't gawking for long before her helmet began to speak with Weavels voice, and she slipped it back on to catch the middle portion of his broadcast.

"…And you don't have any idea what it could be?" she asked after listening for a moment. "Two clicks out from the station, and nothing else in the area that could be localizing energy there, not even a Kriken cluster? …They're thinning out? Well, that's a relief at least. Maybe there is a shred of hope for us after all…I'm…I'll have to explain later," Angseth stated, as she stood while chancing a small glance in Kandens direction.

As Kanden himself began to stand, the gate of Hangar B began to buckle and groan under the damage it had taken during the battle. It finally gave and fell away from the two with a thunderous crash, revealing several neat rows of fighter class ships in the room on the other side. Kanden gazed into the quiet hangar for a little while with an illegible expression.

"Tell everyone to stand their ground and fight off the remaining Kriken as best they can, and keep an eye on the spacial disturbance. I'll be making my way back momentarily. Angseth out," Angseth closed the com, lifted her helmet visor and glanced at the Kanden creature again, just to make sure it wasn't exhibiting anymore strange behavior, "Just…stay out of trouble, alright? If you're able to help fight off the Kriken then I suggest you do so, if you want to save any family or loved ones still aboard the station. I assumed all civilians had been moved to a more protected location, but after running into you I guess anything's possible. I'm going this way, do whatever you want." She stated as she walked to the way they came in.

…_Kanden is glad to see that these fighter ships are still space worthy! Fine vessels they are, worthy of Kandens approval! Should he see fit to propel his comrades to safety, Marine Angseth would be wise to stuff them-with great care of course-into these craft of such noble caliber! Ha ha ha, the Kindness of Kanden astounds even Kanden himself! No, no need to thank Kanden. Your brutal onslaught earlier is thanks enough! Now, with no more delay, hasten I to dearest Penelope along the crimson thread of passion! Kanden HOOOOOOO!_

* * *

Briar scanned the numerous holo windows around him, keeping track of troop movements of both Confederation and Siafu forces. It seemed as if the Kriken tide had reached it's apex. Their forces were still horribly outnumbered, but at least no more mangled red bodies were coming in from the void. Nevada was so busy keeping his temper and everyone's locations in check that he almost missed the live feed from the main view screen of the _Mabus_. He had closed down a few windows to make room for more maps and schematics when his attention was completely stolen from his work.

A horizon line split the screen in two, bright white, giving Briar the momentary impression that he was looking out a window on some forgotten world. The line was soon joined by another, slightly below and to the left, starting as a bright pinpoint of light that flattened, and expanded left to right. Nevada felt an ache begin in the back of his mind as his subconscious tried to unravel the meaning of these lights. A third joined the first two, above the first line, and expanded just as the others had done. Very slowly Briar reached for the com line. "Weavel?"

"I see it."

"So you have any idea what it may be?"

"No."

The midpoint of each line grew brighter. Briar checked his scanners, but they didn't seem to register anything out of the ordinary. From each of the midpoints, an ovular pod emerged, silver-white in color, organic seeming and slick. As the pods emerged, the horizon lines disappeared. The pods continued along their course, then slowed just out of the range of the weaponry of the _Mabus_.

Seams began to form in the skin along the exterior of the first pod. The pod broke apart in pieces, exposing other components and surfaces within that, in turn, also broke apart, unfolded, spun, and joined with previous cast-offs. Briar watched slack-jawed as three large vessels seemed to form from nothingness, each and every last panel interlocked with other panels, folding out from the ether, as if someone had opened a gateway into another dimension where all of these components were kept. Nevada's head began to ache when he realized that was exactly what was happening. In the space of moments, three Chozo vessels had fully formed, each larger than the _Mabus_ and _Behemoth_ combined.

The _Aphelion_, the _Corona_, and the _Eolian_, all hailed the _Mabus_ at once, causing the Battlegrid along with the coms systems to crash. Briar watched helplessly as the combined efforts of the highly advanced Chozo computer systems, raided the exposed information, then carefully rebooted each one back to its former function. Three holo grams sprang to life around him, each showing a Chozo in various stages of battle dress. The one to his left began to make complex movements and patterns with his fingers, and then a synthesized voice spoke over the comline.

"Forgive our unintended intrusion Captain Nevada Briar, we came to investigate a sub-spatial phenomenon that may be hazardous to the _Salem_."

After reading the file that Vera had given him, Briar knew all too well that the Chozo never went out of their way for anything, not even to save a Confederation station. For the moment he had no grounds to question their presence, but they would be a welcome addition to the limited Confederation and Siafu forces. Nevada growled when Weavel's comlink came back online. "Mind helping us with a few of these Kriken first?" He hissed.

"_Are you under attack from the Kriken, or Gamma Fleet?"_ The computerized voice inquired.

"Gamma Fleet is on our side for the moment. Please refrain from engaging them."

"Understood."

Nevada gave them the security code to page Admiral Arget'ni in case they needed more information. The three ships broke formation, then silently and gracefully approached the _Salem_. Briar felt a weight lift from his chest. Re-enforcements had arrived, and they couldn't ask for anyone better than the Chozo.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Angseth navigated the darkened halls of the Outer Ring, drifting through Phazon haze until she couldn't stand it any longer. Her body ached; torn and complaining of healing wounds. Those two flat worms Weavel had given her earlier were the only things fending off the pain long enough for her to move. The com lines had exploded with news of the arrival of three Chozo vessels, and Admiral Arget'ni was beside herself. Their very presence was enough to give the troops hope, and from the sound of things the Kriken were no match for them. Normally she would be rejoicing along with them, ecstatic to assist in the final push to force the Kriken to leave their hard-won territory. But something was wrong. Her body felt distant, and unresponsive. She couldn't explain away the uneasiness that had settled into her bones. Something just felt off.

Vera leaned against a wall, and lowered the volume for the com unit in her helmet. Even though the shouts and laughter were what she wanted to hear, every last sound and vibration annoyed her to the point of violence. If she hadn't been so worn out by Kanden, she would have just started punching holes through walls until she reached her destination. Funny how one battle with Ridley had completely redefined her physical boundaries. She pulled the helmet off and let it drop to the floor. Heat rose from her body into the cold corridor, visible by the vapor trails as it left the collar of her suit. The cold air felt good on her skin. She felt hot enough to be sick.

At some point, Weavel had given a signal for the Siafu to retreat back to the _Nightmare_, and other vessels. Angseth felt guilty that she hadn't gone with them, instead she roamed the halls of the Outer Ring to ensure that everyone had been evacuated safely, and that all Kriken entry points had been sealed. This one hall still had air pressure and breathable atmosphere.

Vera slid down the wall, her shoulder plate grinding into the hard alloy and metal surface. She felt weaker than she had in a long time. Her body was trying to tell her that it needed something, but what she couldn't quite put her finger on.

Something cold hit her bare scalp, and Vera snapped her attention toward the source, her mind racing with thoughts of some unknown foe ready to devour her. She relaxed when she saw that the source was only water dripping from a pipe. Condensation on the cold exterior was making a mess in the hall. Her tongue darted over her lips and she suddenly knew what it was she craved.

Standing, she extended the Battlehammer to its full length, then stood on tiptoe and swung at the pipe on the ceiling. The first swipe only made a dent, the second created the gash she was going for. Water; cold, clear, and satisfying erupted from the pipe and raced down over her body, down the collar of her helmet, over the bare scalp on her head, and down her throat. She stood with her eyes closed, water running over her hot burnt skin, cooling her, pushing the Phazon back allowing her to think and focus on the more pressing matters at hand. She rolled her head to the left, then the right, feeling the gentle force of the water over what little skin was exposed on her neck. The suit had an air-tight seal around the inside, for the very purpose of keeping moisture out, and a regulated atmosphere in. Vera let her head drop forward, and felt the water pound against the back of her scalp.

_ What am I doing?_

Better stop asking questions, it was bad to ask questions when there was still so much left to do.

_ Why am I making deals with Pirates and fully planning on disobeying every order given to me?_

It had been ignored for so long, Angseth almost didn't know what this feeling was that was creeping up in her chest.

_ Briar…oh please forgive me!_

Hot, guilty, and frightened tears soon joined the cold water running over her neck and cheeks. Vera lifted her left arm, and rested it against the wall, then leaned in, her burnt forehead rested against the back of her armored hand. Her teeth chattered together with suppressed sobs. _God damn I hate crying!_ She inhaled deeply, gradually gaining control of herself. It was all part of the pattern. She would get pumped up, fight tooth and nail for her life, and then when things cooled down, she crashed, both emotionally and physically. Except the Phazon wasn't letting her body rest or relax, and now her mind was doing enough crashing to make up for it.

She focused on the water, on the sensation of the coldness running over her skin. Focus on something else, anything else to keep the tears and guilt at bay. Welcome the pain, welcome the anger and the fear, they kept her from thinking of anything else. Angseth drank her fill, and pulling her helmet on, continued on up the corridor. Even before the helmet had fully rested and locked into place, she could see messages scrolling across her HUD. Admiral Arget'ni was requesting Angseth's presence in the command center. The helmet hissed as it pressurized, locking Vera away from the outside world.

* * *

They hadn't expected such a large Confederation force to be present near the spacial fluctuation. The Ltaoclazeuq High Council had reviewed the information and dispatched three ships to scout the anomaly. Exactly thirty minutes after the readings had been received, the_ Aphelion_, the _Corona_, and the _Eolian_ had arrived to identify the source. Even with long-range scanners, Solstice couldn't have known that there was a battle occurring on the other side of their space-fold. All three ships were bound by numerous treaties to assist the Confederation in this military action. Although he personally felt that Kriken were a waste of perfectly good sub-matter rounds.

Once the main bulk of Kriken threat had been dealt with, Solstice gave orders to several entry teams to assist internal clean-up efforts within the Salem. However one of the teams had been given orders to locate the source of energy disturbance. That was the true nature of their visit here, the ongoing conflict and an opportunity to brown-nose the Confederation were just an added bonus. He kept in contact with Fleet Admiral Arget'ni. Yes they would assist with any medical emergencies, or help repair any ships or life support systems as needed. Within the space of ten minutes of arrival, the three Chozo vessels had effectively contained and nullified any and all threats. Even the Pirate ships packed up their troops and withdrew peacefully, with the exception of one battleship, the _Behemoth_.

Eventually the scouting party had reported the location of the spacial disturbance. The jump gate. Solstice gave orders for the scouts to proceed with caution. Not just anyone could activate a Space Bridge, especially not one this old and well-hidden. Solstice questioned the Admiral for information on the gate, which was currently being used to evacuate civilians from the station. There had to be some kind of greater intelligence at work here. Humans and most of the Confederation races lacked sufficient brainpower and comprehension skills required to operate a Space Bridge. It didn't set his mind at ease to know that contact had been lost with the main gate control room before the conflict began. The Kriken had been enough of a threat, but there was a short list of dangers that could possibly be contained in that engine room, and Solstice didn't want to think of the death toll that could result from the possibilities. Ltaoclazeuq migration routes could be compromised if the Space Bridge remained open.

Solstice gave the order to subdue, contain, or possibly kill any threat that could lurk within the gate control room.

* * *

It had been a while since Serec had this much fun. Working the gate reminded him of his first job so many years ago at one of the major Chozo observatories. Back then he had been hired on as an assistant air traffic controller, and it was watching all those ships come and go that finally inspired him to pursue a career in propulsion technologies. Even though the Salem had only one gate instead of the twelve that the observatory had boasted, he became completely lost in his role and nostalgia.

"Confirmed deportation of units, arrival status clear, ready for the next batch." Serec spoke into the audio-only com unit located on the computer terminal before him. He had long since deactivated the standard com unit issued to him. The chatting and bickering on the "party line" was distracting to his work. He wished that he could have seen the look on the faces of the space traffic controllers on the London when shuttles from the Salem started to appear out of their jump gate. Or at least Serec hoped they came out of the jump gate, or any of the surrounding area. He couldn't quite tell exactly where the exit point would lay in relation to the space station, but he still received confirmation energy ripples as each load was delivered. The Confederation didn't have sophisticated enough equipment to relay information this far so soon.

Fighters lined up to create a protective channel for the transport and drop ships to travel through until they encountered the protected space of the jump gate. Sacul had performed marvelously in keeping the Kriken away from the gate once the initial wave had been dealt with, and while scanners occasionally lit up, she dispatched them efficiently. Serec was so wrapped up in his work that he didn't notice the scans coming in from the _Mabus_. Instead he kept sending more ships through, determined to evacuate every last civilian soul onboard the Salem. He was happy, he was working, the tide of the battle had turned, and nothing could ruin his good mood.

Except the sound of a small explosion in the hall outside of the main engineering room.

Angry, Serec grabbed his com unit and hailed Sacul. "What the hell are you doing out there?"

_"Fighting Kriken! Why?"_

"Something is trying to get into my engineering bay, you had better get your ass

in here! I have no protection, and there are still several more ships that need to sent!"

_"Alright, don't get your feathers ruffled, I'm on my way."_

Serec slammed the com down, then gave the go-ahead for the last few ships. He heard the door to the engineering bay slam open, and he hissed. The air rushing over his beak created a satisfying sound that he hadn't the pleasure of making in some time. "Gods be damned Sacul-" Serec turned around, then felt every cell in his body freeze.

At the door stood ten Ltaoclazeuq. Each in heavy armor with weapons pointed at Serec. Slowly, Serec reached behind his back to steady himself against the computer consol. "It's not what you think," Serec breathed, fear had almost taken his voice completely. He immediately regretted opening his beak. It was considered an insult to use his vocal cords. He had become so comfortable with it that his had forgotten his Chozo manners completely. Speaking had become second nature. "Please, I'm not,"

They moved as one unit, rushing up and wrenching him away from the controls. Serec lost his footing and hit the floor. HUDs flickered with light and characters. He vaguely read the gist of them before an armored clawed foot came down on his head. _Threat located and isolated. One enemy Acopiltaczet …Possible others in area…terminate?_

Serec knew that fighting would only make them kill him sooner. Already his vision had gone blurry from the assault. The foot lifted and clawed armored hands grabbed the collar of his Confederation uniform. He could see fingers and claws move in patterns, and he struggled to remember what they meant. _Who are you, and why are you __here?_ One wearing red armor asked. They seemed to be young, and eager to prove themselves. Serec remembered those days.

"I'm a Confederation officer." Serec felt the words leave his throat and cursed his slip-up again.

_Disgusting. You use your throat to growl like a beast. If you are a Confederation officer, then that makes you the worst kind of traitor. Not only to your nation, but also to your own race!_

"I…" He closed his beak and corrected himself. His fingers clenched as he tried to remember how to make the symbols. He hadn't used his native tongue in so long it escaped him. Finally he opened his talons and clumsily signed. _I request to meet with your superior._

_Denied. May you serve as a warning to all Acopiltaczet who wish to trespass in Ltaoclazeuq territory!_ The red one dropped him and the others closed in. As per custom, they began removing and recalling their helmets. It was considered cowardly to conceal one's identity when making a deathblow. So many multi-colored faces and eyes. Their only unifying feature was the white mask around their eyes.

_I am unarmed!_ Serec struggled to sign as fists and claws tore the clothing from him back and limbs. He kicked and grabbed at whatever hold his talons could find. The claws of his attackers grabbed and held tightly as fangs penetrated his skin and scales. Serec didn't scream, he _shrieked_ when burning venom entered his body. More fangs parted his scales, and his voice left him, as did all sensation in his limbs. They kept biting, ripping, and pulling at his feathers.

The door slid open once more, and this time Sacul entered, armor bright pink and glossy hard black, with twin orbs hovering a foot from either shoulder. Serec didn't need to hear her voice, her body language and the sudden appearance of numerous missiles was enough to let everyone in the room understand her anger. The Ltaoclazeuq soldiers dropped Serec's body and leaped at this new threat. Serec almost felt sorry for them. Sacul was one of the best suit pilots and tactical minds the Acopiltaczet had before she fled prosecution. Obviously the many years she spent on Rovien only served to sharpen her skills.

Two bodies vaporized before Serec. Sacul flew through the charred ashes and grabbed Serec before the rest of the group knew what had happened. _"Getting out of here bro. You okay?"_

"No." He whispered.

* * *

Angseth limped up the hall toward the control room for the jump gate. Briar had said that Serec was there. If she knew Serec as well as she thought she did, that meant he would have a way to return to the Central Core. Vera hoped to catch a ride with him. Her mind drifted back and forth between keeping an eye out for danger, and trying to keep the nagging feeling in her stomach tolerable. The water she had drank earlier sat in her stomach like a rock, churning and rolling. Angseth prayed that she wouldn't puke. She hated puking. Water had never made her puke before, but then again, the past few days had revealed many different things she had never thought possible before. If she focused too much on her stomach, it would react. Instead she let her thoughts drift to the present. The halls around the engine room were relatively untouched, and the few Kriken bodies she encountered had been neatly piled in out of the way places. The lighting and panels in the hall changed as she entered the engineering sector.

She hadn't gone very far when a feather drifted up the hall, caught in the draft from some air vent. Angseth almost wrote it off as another trick the Phazon was playing on her mind and comprehension skills, but then she remembered that Briar had mentioned the Chozo were roaming the station with Marines looking for wayward Kriken. That might explain the source of the feather, and the piles of Kriken, but not why the feather would be floating freely. Angseth caught it mid-air and studied it. Brilliant green with an almost blue sheen to it. Much like a peacocks. She dropped it and moved further up the hall. Interesting, but not note worthy. She then rounded a corner that lead to the main engineering control room for the jump gate. Gravity was normal in this part of the station, but Angseth wasn't prepared for the sight that awaited her.

The floor had been almost completely covered in a thin layer of multicolored feathers. More downy pieces drifted down from the ceiling like fuzzy snow. _What in the name of the Goddess happened in here?_ Vera knelt, and used her right hand to stir the feathers. Most of them had blood on them, or even chunks of skin still connected at the base. What disturbed her more about the whole scene was the _kind_ of feathers that littered the ground here. While on Agartha, it wasn't uncommon to see feathers drifting around. Although the Chozo seemed to keep well groomed enough, they lost feathers the same way humans lost hair. But most of those feathers were of the undercoat variety. Colorful near the tip, while soft and fuzzy near the base. The feathers on the floor here were primary feathers, colorful all the way through and healthy enough to not come out on their own. Someone, or by the myriad of color before her, a few someones had gotten into a quite a fight. More importantly, where was her Chief Engineering Officer?

Angseth walked through the control room, finding only more feathers and scorch marks on the walls and floor. Even with her helmet on, she could make out the scent of burnt plasma and skin tissue. Several computer terminals had been demolished, yet scans indicated the damage wasn't caused by Kriken weaponry. Aside from the general disarray, and even more feathers, there was not a living soul in the room.

"Where is Serec?" she asked aloud. More annoyed at not finding what she was looking for, than the obvious signs of an intense battle. Vera picked up her pace, trotting through the halls and rooms, following the trail of feathers. Something was wrong, and the Phazon was drawing her closer to it much like the presence of a dead animal drew vultures. Ahead of her the hall ended in a "T" and continued to either her right or left. Angseth began to fully run when she saw a red and purple Morph Ball roll past the intersection. That was not a good sign. As she drew closer, she could hear sounds of fighting to her right. Vera held her hand out and grabbed the corner, using the momentum to gain speed as she sharply turned right, her Siafu-made cybernetics protested, and she stumbled. It wasn't like her to so blindly turn into hall, but the Phazon had done wonders to justify her own god-like prowess.

The hall ended in another large room, where no less than fifteen Chozo were engaged in the most quiet combat she had ever witnessed for such a large group. The only thing that really made any noises were the minor explosions and missiles fired from one individual in hot pink and black that the other entire multi-colored horde seemed to focus on. They bounced off the walls and flew around near the ceiling, almost if they were all bits of multi-colored paper. Their combat was both deadly and hypnotizing to watch. Angseth slowly entered the room, but the Chozo seemed to pay her no mind. No one answered her hails, they didn't respond to her requests for a status report. They just ignored her. As if this was personal business, and the Marine should just butt out of it. For the most Vera was willing to let them go about their squabbling, until she saw a bare clawed foot jutting out from behind a computer terminal. Why would a Chozo be out of armor? They usually wore so many clothes, that this was most she had ever had a chance to see of one. Curiosity drove her forward. Perhaps this one would be able to answer a few questions.

At first she only peeked, still aware that no Chozo she had ever encountered didn't carry at least some form of weaponry. This one had been injured severely. Most of its feathers had been pulled and ripped from it's crest, blood seeped from between its scales, and its clothing had been ripped and shredded. But still, something was off. Angseth knelt next to the body, and studied the clothing. It wasn't anything she had seen a Chozo wear, in fact it looked like a Confederation issue uniform. A missile exploded nearby, causing Vera to flinch, but not move. The Chozo before her gasped. Jade green scales rose and fell as it struggled to breathe. "Cap…tain?"

Angseth swore she had misheard the voice. For a moment she was convinced that it was Serec. But Chozo didn't normally speak, and why would this one call her "Captain?" Maybe it was mistaken. She scanned his face. Black mask around the eyes. Acopiltaczet, just like Sacul. She looked over her shoulder and saw the fifteen or so other birds teamed up against one.

"Captain…help…Sa…cul."

Serec's voice again. Angseth turned her attention back to the Chozo before her. It had dog tags around its neck, much like what the Confederation issued the Marines. Out of habit she checked the tags. "No way." She carefully grabbed either side of the bird's head and checked its eyes. Deep thoughtful brown accompanied by the smell of hydraulic fluid. "Serec?" Vera asked. The question sounded dumb. Serec was probably happily sitting on a transport on his way back to the Central Core, chatting with someone on his holo glasses…and what was this bird doing wearing a set of holo glasses anyway?

Vera felt the pieces click together in her mind, as much as she had fought the coming logic. For almost ten years, she had a Chozo as her Chief Engineering Officer, and didn't know it. Her mind steadily replayed the memory of Sacul removing her hair-tie and turning from human to Chozo, and on the end of that, another memory of Serec. She had gone to his room and pressed the door chime to summon him, and the man had answered the door wearing only a towel and a necklace with a pair of bolts threaded onto it…and a wet feather stuck to one shoulder. At the time she didn't think anything of it, she had just guessed that he had one of those really expensive feather pillows tucked away somewhere.

"How long Serec? What have you been hiding from me?"

"Talk…later…" His beak didn't move, the sounds appeared to have been made deeper in his throat, probably through intense manipulation of his vocal cords.

Angseth carefully rested his head back down on the floor. Serec had been as much of a part of her life as Briar. He knew too much about either of them, and he was someone she proudly called her friend. Chozo or not, he was hers. Serec was a part of her family, and no pre-existing feud with psychotic cockatoos was going to take him from her. The Phazon didn't really see it that way. What rose up in her this time was the insult. Serec was a possession, property that had been damaged, and these arguing foes before her needed to repay her for what they had damaged.

This man had put his life on the line for her many times in the past ten years. Angseth owed him. Chozo or not, Serec was Serec. Vera scanned his body, making sure she could move him safely without jostling any possibly broken bones. The scans weren't encouraging. He had many broken bones, but that wasn't her main concern. Serec was currently under the effect of no less than twenty different venoms. She knelt, carefully picking up his green scaly form. Moving him probably wasn't a good idea, but he couldn't stay here. Angseth rested his head on her shoulder and supported the rest of his body in her arms.

The Chozo were still arguing amongst themselves. Angseth paused for one moment to examine the room. It seemed to be a large cylinder with numerous levels and decks, each used to monitor a different area of the jump gate and possibly other energy outputs in the station. Occasionally a Chozo would tumble down, and spring off the ground as if they had negated all gravity, then return back to the battle. For a moment the Phazon flickered through her body, craving the bloodbath that a good all-out brawl would produce. However there was still something left of Vera's survival instincts. For the moment the Chozo were otherwise occupied, and Angseth didn't care how. Serec was her one and only worry. There would be time for questioning later, when all of them were back aboard the _Mabus_ and had few sips of bourbon in them.

She moved quickly along the outside wall of the room, staying mostly out of the way and heading for the hall where she had entered. Serec shuddered, flinched and panted with her every step. If she turned her head just so, she could see his tongue flicker along the outer edge of his beak. "Keep it together soldier. The _Mabus_ can't run without you."

"Yes…Sir…"

"Don't speak. For once in your career, I'm insisting you keep that damn mouth of yours shut." Angseth entered the hall, continuing her brisk walk, and checking her maps for the nearest docking bay. Maybe there would be a ship there she could hot-wire. Suddenly in the dim light, a figure literally stepped out of thin-air ten feet away from her. Instinctively, she activated the Battlehammer. The shape became solid, and stepped into the light.

"Please stay right there Captain Angseth." It spoke.

Vera tightened her grip on Serec. "Ryan?" Of all the surprises the day could throw at her. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I do not have time to explain. You are wanted in the Central Core." Ryan moved to step past her. Vera found it curious that Ryan wore no armor. She wore the same robes as on Agartha.

All the same, Angseth lifted the Battlehammer, blocking the avian's progress. "No. You have some explaining to do."

"There isn't enough time-"

"Then you had better make the god damn time to tell me why your troops invaded the engine room and tried to kill my Engineering Officer!"

Ryan grew impatient. "I can forgive this once Angseth, but my patience runs thin. I will admit that I did not know Serec was on your crew. If you do not get him to a med-bay immediately, he will die. I must go to my troops now and help them apprehend Sacul without killing him. My transport is waiting for you at the airlock down that hall. I swear to you, no more harm shall come to you or Serec as long as I am in charge. Now hurry Human!"

Angseth's trust in the Chozo had taken a beating, especially after her battle with Ridley. She didn't like Ryan's attitude either, but she would obey for the moment. If nothing else, Ryan had promised her a ride to the Central Core, and once Serec was safely in Sakari's hands, then Vera promised herself not to hesitate in the slightest when the opportunity to properly interrogate Ryan presented itself. She continued to the airlock, and as promised a Chozo vessel had been docked there, waiting for her arrival. A pair of Ltaoclazeuq stood guard on either side of the door, and while Vera could tell they weren't too happy to have Serec in their midst, they kept their distance. The transport was what she had come to expect of Chozo ships. Efficient but heavily decorated with symbols and what seemed to be precious metals. Angseth found herself a seat inside and sat down. As far as she could tell there were no medical facilities onboard, and no one offered to nurse Serec's wounds. As if it couldn't get any worse, sitting down reawakened her stomach cramps.

Tense moments ticked by, and eventually Ryan returned with three other troops, holding Sacul between them. Vera felt that she should have known that it Sacul had the one in pink and black. Sacul sputtered and hissed at the treatment, but the fight had gone from her for the moment. "Hey Captain." She mumbled as Ryan ordered the other three to set her down in an empty seat. Ryan then began to sign furiously, and the remaining three left the transport.

"What are they doing?" Angseth asked.

"Keeping an eye on the Outer Ring. I am personally delivering all three of you to the Central Core."

"My officer needs medical care."

"I know." Ryan sighed, and turned, locking green eyes on the fluffy jade green mass of scales next to Vera. Ryan's eyes took on a sadder expression. "Sacul, you killed a lot of my troops." Vera noticed that Sacul smelled like warped plasma and burnt ozone. She hoped the bird would change out of the damaged armor soon. Her stomach was already acting weird without the added stimulus.

"Serves 'em right Solstice. That's what you get for sending in a bunch of Hatchlings." Sacul mumbled again. "I surrendered, now do as you promised and help my brother."

"I will." Ryan, or as Angseth now confirmed, Solstice, sat down across from Vera as the transport began to move. "Please bring him to me Angseth."

Vera carefully collected Serec. _Serec, Sacul, and Solstice._ _It seems the old crew is back together now. The only one missing is Siairus._ She mused as she stepped forward and placed Serec into Solstice's waiting arms.

"What you are about to witness, you must never tell anyone." Solstice warned.

"My lips are sealed as long as Serec is returned to me in the condition I left him in. Safe and healthy." Angseth countered. She didn't know what kind of technological magic the avian had up her/its/his sleeve. "What are you doing anyway?"

Sacul spoke up from her corner. "There's so much you still don't know about us. All you need to know at the moment, is that all female Chozo are poisonous…with a few exceptions."

_ Poisonous? _She could ask questions later. Serec first. "And I assume Solstice is one of those exceptions?"

"Yes, I am." Solstice lifted her hand and Serec's body hovered before her. Angseth watched, her mind consumed with both worry and fascination as Solstice carefully tilted Serec's head to the side, exposing the clean line of his neck. She lifted her head, and opened her beak wide. Twin fangs unfolded from the roof of her beak, slick with venom and saliva. She leaned over and sank her fangs deep into Serec's neck, parting his scales and feathers. Serec chirped plaintively. Vera stepped forward, and felt Sacul grab her arm to hold her back.

"Don't worry. Solstice has the unique ability to counter any venom with her own. Guess that's why Siairus chose her over me." Sacul's remark made Solstice's slit eyes shoot daggers at her.

Angseth was shooting daggers of her own. "Is this what happened to him down there?! In the engineering room?!" Angseth demanded. "Your troops weren't happy to just beat the shit out him, but they had to _bite_ him too?! What kind of battle tactics do you teach these soldiers of yours?"

Solstice carefully withdrew her fangs and used the hem of her robe to stem the almost negligible flow of blood from Serec's neck. Her fangs folded neatly back under her beak, and she dabbed at the stray strings of venom with her other sleeve. "Captain. It seems as if the Phazon in your veins isn't helping your temper any. I promise you that I will not allow Serec to die, or Sacul for that matter. We are nearing the Central Core. I will leave Serec with your medical officer and escort you to the command room."

"And what about Sacul?"

"She will be returned to your crew as well. Its up to you to decide what to do with them after that. Both of them have been placed in our diplomatic protection programs. My crew or other members of the Ltaoclazeuq cannot touch them without express permission from the High Council."

Angseth collapsed back into her seat, thankful to get the weight off her cybernetic leg, and all the pain that came with it. She wasn't looking forward to meeting with Admiral Arget'ni. If she had the choice between fighting the Kriken all over again or sitting through another meeting, she would have gladly jumped into the first mess of insectine bodies that she could find.

* * *

This would be the first time that Angseth had stepped foot into the main command center of the Salem. If it weren't for the flow of other officers heading in the same direction, she wouldn't have found it. The Captains and commanding officers of the other vessels moved slowly, shuffling down the halls, some nursing wounds, but all held the same haunted expression in their eyes. They all silently pleaded to whatever gods they held dear that this would be the last assault, with the possibility of rest for their crews and supplies. To her surprise, Angseth was the only one in full armor. Even with her limp, she still moved faster than most of them. Fueled by frustration and adrenaline, her only goal was to get in and out of the meeting as soon as possible so she and Weavel could finally set aside all the detours and finish their mission. The other officers parted when they heard Vera clanking and dragging her leg up the hall, occasionally leaning on the wall for support, blue light flickering along the seams of her black armor. For a moment their faces registered fear, and on the more hardened officers, mild curiosity.

As she neared the meeting room, Admiral Arget'ni stepped out of a side office. "In here Captain."

The other officers in the hall gave questioning glances, but continued on their way to the main room. Angseth didn't break her stride and confidently stepped into the small office. From the décor and accolades on the wall, she could instantly tell that this was the Admiral Keeton of the Salem's office. He stood to the left of the door, his hands held behind his back. A large desk with a holo interface dominated the center of the room, bordered on all sides with smaller chairs. In the chair closest to the door, sat Weavel, on his left sat Solstice, her blue plumage contrasted against the mainly gray and metal colored walls and fabrics. Admiral Arget'ni took a seat next to Solstice, and beside her was a face Angseth didn't think she'd see this far out in the boonies, Mirson's assistant, Anderson.

_What the hell is he doing here?_ Vera felt her jaw hit the bottom of her helmet when she recognized Admiral Mirson himself, calmly referencing a holoscreen and pulling a cigar out of a box. The lid read "Echo Valley" and some odd round graphic.

_ Not even a day out of stasis and already puffing away at the stogies eh?_

Angseth walked up to the desk, and even though she wanted to take a seat, she knew that if she sat down, she wouldn't get back up. Climbing out of the transport and delivering Serec to Sakari had been enough of a feat.

Admiral Mirson swept his small beady-eyed gaze over the newcomer and exhaled a cloud of fragrant cigar smoke into the room. "You there, respect this gathering and remove your helmet."

All faces turned, focused on Vera. Angseth activated her external com and said, "Please forgive me Admiral, I refuse."

"I know that voice-Captain Angseth. I suppose much doesn't change in five years. This is not a request Captain. Show some respect and remove your helmet." Mirson held the cigar firmly between his fingers, his tiny brown eyes seemed to pierce through her visor.

"Admiral, I"

"Remove it Mervera Diane Angseth, or I will have you tossed into the brig!"

Faced with imprisonment, Angseth reluctantly complied. She reached up and depressurized the helmet. The clamps loosened under her touch, and it slowly pulled away from her burnt skin. Using both hands, she lifted it as carefully as she could. The inner padding scraped against the burns on her cheeks, ears, and her bare scalp. She hadn't thought to ask Weavel for a mirror before coming aboard the Salem, but she was sure that her scars and burns weren't a pretty sight. Her suspicions were confirmed when several of the officers before and around her winced or turned away. Even Admiral Mirson himself paused and seemed to hold his breath. Vera tucked her helmet under her arm and ran her cold dead gray eyes over those gathered. She felt something wiggle against the base of her scalp, then reached up and tucked one of those flat worms back under the collar of her armor before anyone else could see it. Her present condition was bad enough and didn't need to presence of an unidentified parasite. Those gathered got their eyeful then turned and gave their attention to the System Admiral.

But Mirson wasn't done with Angseth yet. No, for an old fart just out of stasis, he was still as much of a pain in the ass as ever. "Angseth, what happened to you?"

Vera answered curtly and in a tone that said the topic was not open for discussion. "Ridley and I got into a tiff."

Solstice's feathers noticeably shifted, and for a moment the Chozo seemed to lose her composure. She quickly smoothed her feathers back down and prepared for the meeting.

_ Still in love with him aren't you? _Angseth observed_. Can't say I blame you, if he hadn't been using me for a wrecking ball, I would've been flirting with him too._

"I suppose you know why I've called you here." Mirson began, exhaling another cloud of smoke.

Angseth resisted the urge to cough. "I have my suspicions sir, but I'll not jump to conclusions."

His eyes fixed on hers again, and it seemed as if all the others in the room ceased to exist. He was trying to read her, or cause her to glance away. Angseth allowed him neither. She was too tired to fight, but she wasn't going to take his bait either.

Admiral Arget'ni sensed the tension in the small room and spoke first. Always the diplomat. "Now that everyone is here. We can assess this information. We have all read the report you had given to Lieutenant Briar. Please expound if you can."

Vera shook her head. "All the information you need, can be provided by Solstice. There is nothing there that I haven't already documented several times over."

Ryan's feathers fluffed again. Even though Vera had forgotten the majority of Chozo expressions, she knew nervousness when she saw it.

Mirson exhaled and set his gaze on Weavel. Anderson coughed next to him. Mirson smiled, and barked out a chuckle, which led him to start coughing. It was the first time Angseth had ever heard such a sound come out of him. "I wish I knew how you did it Captain. I always knew that you were a feisty pain in the rear, but how you managed to get a Gamma Fleet Officer in my presence under his own free will is mind boggling. Might I have your name Sir?"

Weavel's servos whirred before he answered. _"I am Weavel. Prince of the Siafu and Gamma Fleet Officer."_

"I read your file. Lieutenant Briar filled in all the necessary information to request that the Siafu be recognized as a sentient species and nation." Mirson said. "And the two of you," He pointed to Angseth, "Met because both of you had been chasing what amounted to a distress call from Aran, correct?"

Both Weavel and Angseth nodded an affirmative. Angseth had to give the cyborg credit. He was probably scared out of his circuits. She didn't think that any member of Gamma Fleet had the opportunity to sit in the presence of so many enemies peacefully.

"So, what was so important that you would leave your post," He pointed to Angseth, "And you," He gestured to Weavel with the lit end of his cigar. "Would forsake all of your ties with Gamma Fleet to rescue a woman who has sworn to kill you?"

Both Weavel and Angseth turned and looked at Solstice. "Your turn feather brain." Angseth snapped.

Solstice paused, but as she opened her beak Admiral Keeton of the Salem spoke up. "Excuse me, I have just received word that the interstellar Coms have been repaired. There is something on the news feeds that we should see."

Mirson nodded. "Bring it up. Any news this far out is welcome," He then focused his eyes on Solstice. "You are not off the hook yet Ambassador."

Admiral Keeton activated one the central holo screens. The screen became fuzzy for a moment before an image stabilized. Angseth felt the Phazon surge through her veins and ignite her anger once more.

Captain, now Fleet Admiral Henry Thomas, stood on a raised dais before the senate of Syren 1. The crowd around him roared with cheers and applause as the announcer shouted above the chaos_. "Fleet Admiral Henry Thomas is making a bold move before his official change of office in twenty four hours. The newly elected System Admiral has mobilized the remaining forces of the Syrese fleet to SR3-88 as part of his plan to eliminate the Pirate threat from Syrese space once and for all. Since word had been received of the loss of the deep space station known as the 'Salem' the public has demanded more security for the colonies and stations located in the Outer Reaches."_

"What is the time stamp on this transmission?" Arget'ni asked.

Angseth stepped forward. She didn't know if anyone else in the room had been trained in coms, but she was curious as well as to how old this information was. After a few taps on the holo keys, she had her answer. "Eighteen hours ago."

Mirson chuckled again. It sounded unnerving this time. "Seems as if I have been out-maneuvered quite nicely. In six hours we will have a new System Admiral of Draco."

"No….No, I can't let that happen." Angseth shook her head. "Weavel, we gotta go. We need to get Samus _now_."

Weavel moved to stand. Mirson stopped him with a wave of his cigar. "I didn't dismiss either of you."

Angseth's hands clenched, and unclenched. "You know, you're right, you didn't dismiss us, but right now there are bigger things that need to be done. I'm sorry if I can't be more professional about it, but at the moment everything is painfully clear to me, and the only one who can set it all straight is Aran!"

"If you are withholding information, then you need to spill it now." Mirson said calmly, but his skin began to grow redder by the second. In that instant, Angseth decided to see if she could make it go straight to purple. He was just out of stasis, couldn't be that hard.

Angseth set her helmet down on the desk and leaned over into his reddened face. Later Weavel would tell her that the blacker streaks of Phazon across her cheeks had begun burning bright blue. "Now you listen to me you ungrateful dick-wrinkle. I just rescued your ass from the Seattle, and what may have been almost a certain death. A small thank you would be very much appreciated. The rest of you listen up and hit a record button somewhere because I'm only going to say this once. Henry Thomas is Ridley. Ridley is Siairus. No, I don't have any proof other than the burns all over my face and body. Weavel and I need to get Samus out of the Pentacle so she can prevent this stupid war the Chozo are about to undergo."

Ryan sighed. "Its too late for that."

Angseth snapped around. "Too late for what?!"

"Once our fleets are launched, there is no stopping them. As we speak, our forces are gathering. We were already on high alert after we discovered the Space Bridge became activated, and by an Acopiltaczet no less. I have already sent the information you had provided to the High Council. We may be able to stop a full-on military action if Aran is found. They will start by searching the Pentacle for Samus."

"The Pentacle is within the border of Acopiltaczet territory! If you go there, they will definitely attack, that will trigger the war we're trying to prevent!"

"Indeed. And now with this new information of Siairus, it would push both of our peoples over the edge. The Confederation will get caught in the middle. We knew that Siairus had been in hiding, we didn't imagine that his Variable-form technology could be used like this." Solstice stood, straightening out her feathers. "I didn't want to be the bearer of bad news Angseth, but it seems that you have failed in your mission."

"I have not failed yet!"

"Its too late. I am sorry, I had thought our gifts would have been enough to aid you, but I didn't consider Ridley interfering."

Before Angseth could erupt in avian-inspired insults, Mirson spoke calmly. "Sit down please Ambassador. I will not have any of you leaving this office before you have been dismissed properly."

For a moment Solstice seemed to consider her options, but she reluctantly sat down again.

"Now from the top ladies and gentlemen. First things first. Admiral Keeton, please shut down all com lines leading from this station, and only seek ambient signals. They want to think were are dead, then we will not try to change their minds. Now, before the two of you get into any more finger pointing, Weavel. I had read in your report that you had set up a refugee colony on SR3-88, correct?"

"_Yes."_

"Your people are in the direct line of fire, and you have kept the coolest head. For that I commend you. We can stand to believe that if Admiral Thomas had sent out a fleet, they would be nearing SR3-88 now. With the 'destruction' of the Salem, it would stop them from using this jump gate, thereby slowing them down. We still have a chance. As System Admiral, I accept your plea for Confederation assistance. I will send out forces to intercept the incoming fleet."

"Admiral, we barely have-"

"In a moment Arget'ni.—Angseth, you were sent on a special mission to recover Samus Aran, what is the status of that mission?"

Angseth still felt the Phazon course through her veins, but bit back her anger and frustration. She settled for entertaining thoughts of making a pillow stuffed with light blue feathers. "Using Weavel's help, we had deduced that Aran had been taken to one of two locations, Rovien, or the Pentacle. We uncovered a Metroid breeding program on Rovien, but not Aran herself." _At least I hope "mother" wasn't Samus._ Vera inhaled deeply. "That only leaves the Pentacle. Before we could leave for the Pentacle, Lieutenant Briar had assumed command of the _Mabus_, and we left to answer an SOS on the Salem. Now that the Salem is safe, we wish to continue on to the Pentacle."

"You suspect that she is there, yet you have no proof." Arget'ni asked.

"We have to go with what we have Sir."

Mirson looked at Solstice. "If Samus is found, Can she prevent this war?"

"Yes." Ryan said calmly. "But Angseth cannot make it there before the main Chozo force arrives. By your methods, travel to the Pentacle would take over a month from this location."

Angseth bit her bottom lip. In all of their planning, she hadn't thought about the time it would take to travel that distance. "By _our_ methods."

Arget'ni caught on to the tone in Angseth's voice. "Ambassador. How long until the main Chozo force arrives at the Pentacle?"

"Three hours."

Weavel spoke up. _"We can do it. I don't know much about Space Bridges, but I do know that they allow for instant transportation from one point to another. If the Chozo could help us configure the bridge, then Angseth and I can free Aran in three hours."_

"A good plan, but this bridge has a set path, it cannot be done with this one."

Anderson coughed again. Angseth wondered if a lung or worse was going to end up on the desk.

Arget'ni then folded her hands across her knee. "Well then, Ambassador. Is there anything that can be done from this end of Confederate space?"

All eyes turned on Solstice. Vera believed that this would be the first time she had ever seen Ryan lose her composure. Her taloned fingers traced patterns against her robes, a Chozo version of mumbling to oneself. Her feathers slowly smoothed back against her skull and down her neck, making her appear much smaller and weaker than she had first let on. "I have no desire to witness the beginning of another war, which I believe may have been Siairus' intention in the first place. If war is waged between the two Chozo nations, then he will no longer be exiled from his home world. They will welcome him in with open arms."

"Do you have a solution?" Mirson asked.

"I will probably be in a lot of trouble for authorizing this," she sat up, her feathers gaining volume. "Our ships are equipped with a teleportation beam, designed for use with our telekenetics. It enables us to cross large distances in minutes. However, they can only move certain amounts of mass, which is why we use Morph Ball technology to minimize the volume of space the ships encompass. To teleport Angseth and Weavel such a long distance, you would need a very small craft."

"And then there is the matter of getting through the Umbra, the Pentacle's self-defense system." Anderson chipped in.

"You let me worry about that." Angseth breathed. "Weavel, your ship or mine?"

Weavel's external speak buzzed. _"Yours of course. You think that a Pirate scout ship is going to stand a chance in Confederation space, especially near a heavily guarded compound like the Pentacle?"_

"My fighter is only a one-seater."

"I would almost pay to see the internal monitor feed from that craft." Anderson sniggered.

"Then it looks like the two of you are sharing a fighter." Arget'ni smiled.

Solstice pulled up information on Angseth's fighter on the holo screen before her. "It will take an hour to prepare my telepaths."

"That only leaves us two hours to find her and get back out." Angseth took her helmet from the desk.

"At this rate, you have no choice but to complete this mission in two hours, or the Chozo will do it for you." Mirson scanned the faces of those around him. "Dismissed."

Immediately, Solstice, Weavel, and Angseth stood, discussing plans for their departure. Admiral Arget'ni leaned further back in her chair. "Admiral Mirson. Forgive me for stepping out of line, but have you thought this through? We are only sending two people, one of them a Pirate. Large scale armies couldn't break into the Pentacle."

"I need to make do with what I have. I didn't see you volunteering for the

mission. Although I wish I could be there when Mizzen's little pet finally turns on him."

"And SR3-88?"

"Gather up what little forces we have left. Meanwhile, I'm going to ride Solstice hard until he surrenders one of those battleships out there."

* * *

Vera limped slowly up the hall leading from the Salem's briefing room. Two hours was too little time to complete this mission, but she had to try, she had to do something to stop the Chozo from attacking. She would do it or die trying. If she did fail, Angseth didn't think that she would want to live to serve in the aftermath. She had been so lost in her thoughts that she didn't notice a pair of booted feet pass her by.

"Angseth."

She struggled to lift her gaze from the metal corrugated floor to the source of the voice. First she noticed a pair of feet, covered in polished black leather boots. Her eyes traveled upward to a pair of black pants, and soon a black dress coat, silver studded buttons up the left side, a thick collar, and a name tag, along with a symbol she had become familiar with. This was another Battle Cruiser Captain. Vera paused when the shoulders came into view, and a pair of twin bars around each bicep. She quickly looked up and into Briar's eyes. His brows were set and hard, his ears pinned back. He looked very pissed…or very concerned. Even after all these years it was still difficult to read his feline features. He had been promoted, and she felt she knew exactly which Battle Cruiser he was the Captain of. Angseth steeled herself against what she knew would be a very long and drawn out battle, most likely ending in a pair of broken hearts. These last few months had taken their toll on him. Even with the good news of his promotion, his stance and distant expression masked the depth of his pain, and at the moment Vera didn't feel like testing those waters. She didn't think that her stance had become defensive, but as usual her emotions were plain to read from her body language.

Nevada seemed to deflate, he scanned and understand her emotions plainly. His shoulders dropped and his ears splayed to the sides. His eyes grew soft and weary. "Vera,"

That caught her off-guard. She had expected him to say "Captain" or "Commander." Calling her by name had been a surprise. Angseth still remained defensive, but now she leaned inward, hanging on his every breath. She loved him dearly, and like a teenager with her first crush, she gave him her full and undivided attention.

"I did some thinking."

Not a good start. Angseth drew in a breath. "And?" The word came out more harshly than she intended.

"I did some thinking, and," He ran his fingers through the short hair on his head, one of his biggest nervous tells. Dear Gods he looked handsome in a Captain's uniform. It looked…. _appropriate_ on him.

"Spit it out Briar, I have very little time." She started off this conversation bitter, might as well stick with the theme.

"Vera I love you."

"But?"

"I love you, and I'll admit that I was seriously considering calling our engagement off." He winced, almost as if he expected her to explode. When she didn't react, he continued. "But I realized that I love you more than that. These are extreme conditions that we've been in, and if they had been different and not so dire, you would have been with me the entire time."

Angseth allowed herself to relax, but not fully. After that emotional bomb, she was skeptical and afraid, and the Phazon overdose wasn't helping her anxiety much.

"I love you, and want you to be my wife. What kind of mate would I be if I abandoned you in your moment of greatest need?" He reached out and took her hands, holding them tightly and tenderly, as if several inches of armor were not there. "I chose you, knowing full well what I was getting into. When I first met you, you had been rolled and folded up inside one of the worst wrecks I had ever seen anyone in. I had been amazed that you made it out with only one leg missing, hissing and spitting the entire time. I fell in love with you the moment your bruised and bloody face peeked out from behind all that twisted metal. Your strength and tenacity spurred me forward, and yes I was jealous of your candid nature, the ease of which you would brazenly command a platoon into almost certain death and back out again. I still am jealous. But I love you. As I've already said, I knew what I was getting into, and it would be stupid and hypercritical of me to cast you aside for being you."

Vera didn't know what to say, she had been expecting a battle, screaming and name-calling, capped off by slamming of equipment and doors. These words while very much welcome, and took her completely off-guard. She could only whisper his name. "Nevada…"

He kissed the back of her knuckles, bloodied and covered in Kriken juice. "I won't ask for your forgiveness. I know better than that. But I will ask you one more time." Briar looked up at her now, past the decayed blue-gray her eyes had turned, into the face of his mate. His pupils had become slitted once more, amber around the edge of his iris, and deep green toward the center. He drew in a soft breath and asked:

_"Will you be my Wife?" _

Tears pulled at Vera's eyes. She thought that her eyes couldn't create any more tears, the defiant little drops rolled over her cheeks and down her chin. Vera calmed herself, and gently held Briar's fingers in the cold grip of her gauntlets. "Yes Nevada. I will. I never stopped loving you, I never will. There is so mush that I need to do, so many lives are counting on me-"

"Shhhh…" Briar kissed her forehead, his whiskers and rough tongue caressed her burned skin. "I understand. Now, come back with your shield, or on it."

Angseth barked out a nervous laugh. "I'll do my best Kitty." She had to admit, that saying was very much unlike him, but it was what she needed right now. There was no other choice. Victory or Death were her only options. Vera held his hand for another moment, burning the image of his smile into her minds eye.

"I'll walk you to your ship." He held his arm out, and she looped hers through his, leaning on him for support and to take some weight off of her cybernetic leg. She had an extra spring in her step, and the euphoria that came only from having a cause to fight for. Her fighter was already fueled up and ready to go. Weavel poked his metallic head out as she came over.

_ "Cutting it close Private?"_

"We'll be fine." She pulled her helmet on, forgetting to be careful of her burnt skin. A new wave of tears threatened as she jumped up into the cockpit. Before her heart had been heavy, her future bleak, but those few words of encouragement from Briar had done wonders for her. Her heart was light and now the _passion_ for life had been reawakened in her. Her hands slipped into the grips, and she smiled.

"Weavel." Briar called. "Take care of my mate. If anything happens to her, I'm taking it out on your circuits." Briar locked his determined cold stare on the cyborg. He wasn't bluffing, and if anything did happen to Angseth, he would make good on his threat. Convinced that an understanding had been reached, the newly appointed Captain turned and strode out of the docking bay.

Weavel could hear Angseth giggle through the com-line, but it wasn't the cold Phazon induced cackle he had become familiar with. This was warmer and delightful. It melted the fear that had settled in his circuits. As the fighter left the docking bay and headed for the jump gate, Weavel secretly hoped that he would have the chance to savor her laugh again after all was said and done. He would do as Briar asked, and ensure that Angseth made it out alive.

* * *

The halls of the Outer Ring echoed with the sounds of marching Marines. The Admirals had ordered uninjured troops that were not currently involved in the repair process to examine the halls and locate possible structural threats. Commander Bearn had been placed under General Isoke's command. He and his small group of Marines scanned every hall and maintenance duct, simultaneously clearing dead Kriken or Siafu out of the way and into containment pods for later cremation. All was going well until they reached a system of halls where the main electrical grid had been disabled. Bearn's troops either activated their night vision or flashlights, and prepared for slow going.

This particular area had taken a beating, however it didn't seem to follow the same kind of damage pattern as the other areas of Kriken or Pirate intrusion. Bearn checked his maps against the station's database. This section of the Outer Ring, including four decks above and below, were sanctioned as an impound lot. The door to the impound area had been ripped cleanly from it's holdings, then twisted and tossed aside. Beyond the door was a long wide catwalk, with clear plasteel plating that allowed each bay to be monitored from this main walk. He ordered his troops to form up and then stepped cautiously onto the catwalk. The dark could hide anyone….

…except him.

Down at the other end of the hall, stood Kanden, glowing like a maggoty firefly. The Marine's night vision filters struggled with the brightness of his body. As if on cue, the now familiar com interference started up again, and Bearn felt more confident with a full complement of soldiers behind him.

_Yes…Yes! Kanden can feel the presence of his beloved behind this door. This very door which has sat serenely and unnoticed for all this time. This very door that even the Kriken and the Pirates had not seen fit to destroy or even search! Yes, my dearest Penelope, this door has been your protector and your guardian during this insane siege! Hah! Even the Beast known as Ang-seth could not find you my love!—Hark! Kanden turns as he hears footsteps approach behind him. Even Kanden's newest protégé had come to witness your release my sweetness!—Kanden readies his most powerful of weapons! His love for his one and only! Brace yourself Penelope! Kanden is COOOOOMMMEEEEEIIIINNNNGGGG!_

Bearn began to close in on Kanden.

_Mysterious powers revealed them selves to Kanden the day he held aloft his mighty beam and shouted, "For the honor of Penelope!"_

At this, Kanden's right fist began to glow, and he slammed it into the center of the huge door before him. The door buckled, cracked, and in some places rippled. The maggot man then reached with his left, grabbed the cracked seam in the middle of the blast door, and glowing even more fiercely than before, pulled, twisted, and ripped the blast door open, creating a Kanden-sized hole. He climbed through, and into a brightly lit docking bay.

_Penelope!_

Bearn followed as Kanden scampered across the catwalk toward a ship docked at the far end. He lifted his hand to halt the advance of the troops behind him. The ship was iridescent yellow green in color, and bore a striking resemblance to Kanden in his Sting-Larva form.

_Oh Peneloope! Through darkest halls and Kriken guts, I have come to rescue you from this prison! Have they treated you well? Have you eaten today? Kanden was very rightly worried that you may have been used to make even more Kriken drones, perhaps even spare parts ripped from your body to clothe the filthy loins of some Pirate louse. Kanden knew that Penelope could care for herself! Penelope is a tough gal! _

Bearn felt his arms weaken, and he resisted the urge to throw his rifle. "Penelope is a ship?!"

_Not just a ship my esteemed Marinely sidekick! Penelope is Kanden's love! Kanden leveling traces her every curve and panel with his happy and contented gaze. From the bulge of her cockpit, to the streamlined fins along her back, to the large booster restraints on her backside—Booster restraints?! Penelope! They have bound you! They have used their foul restraints to hold back your indomitable spirit! Tell me Penelope, where have they touched you? In what other vile ways have they violated your innocence…No, Kanden cannot bear the thought!…Penelope…Kanden must know…were they….were they…inside you?_

At that, the huge glowing bulk of maggot erupted into sobs, and began lovingly stroking the surface of the _Penelope_, his hunter-class gunship.

"Hey sir,"

Bearn turned at the voice. "What?"

"I was looking at the inventory list, and uh, that ship is just a ship, it doesn't even have an AI."

Bearn shook his head. "I am not in the least surprised." He walked up to Kanden. Who was still moaning and crying over his beloved. "Hey uh…Kanden."

_Be gone! Kanden does not wish his weakness to be exposed so easily! Allow Kanden a moment to compose himself. Even Gods may weep!_

Bearn didn't know what else to do. He knew that taking Kanden by force would be suicide, especially since the creature was already upset over his ship. Bearn took a moment to pull up Kanden's file from the detention center. After reading it carefully, he discussed his options with the Salem's Admiral Keeton. A few more minutes later, and Bearn closed down the com link in his HUD. He closed the distance between himself and Kanden.

_Kanden will not go willingly! Kanden has smited much stronger men than you protégé! Do not test Kanden's patience any longer!_

Bearn activated his external speaker. "I am not here to test you, I've already discussed it with my superior. The only reason you were imprisoned in the first place is because you became rowdy and hard to deal with when they came to you about a parking ticket. In light of the recent aid you had given us during the invasion, Admiral Keeton is willing to cut your fine in half. If you can give me one hundred and fifty Confederation Credits, I will personally remove the Booster Restraints on your ship and you can go on your way.

_Kanden will do no such thing!_

"Then I will have to take you back to the detention center."

_Even Kanden must respect the whims of the laws of lesser beings. Kanden will pay the _full_ amount._ At that Kanden pulled a credit card out of …somewhere…and handed it to Bearn. _Three Hundred Credits._

Bearn scanned the card, and handed it back. "Okay, free up his ship." He stood back and watched as the restraints were removed. Kanden triumphantly climbed up to the airlock on Penelope.

_Farewell my protégé! Farewell to all of the Marines present! Kanden and Penelope ride forth to worlds unknown! _

"Yeah, yeah, just...go." Bearn mumbled. "Alright, the rest of you form up! Lets go!"


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27:

Captain Nevada Briar stood in the Salems command center with a heavy heart. He watched the exterior scans as Angseth's fighter, nothing more than a small triangular blip, cruise silently toward the awaiting portal the Chozo had created. Hopes and prayers would be her primary means of defense against the many deterrents of the Pentacle. He wished he could have spared more, but the _Mabus _was already getting picked clean by other ships in need of repair and armament. Crews had been working non-stop to repair the damage done to the station and the ships that had come to aid them. Compared to the others, the Mabus had pulled through well. Serec's services were needed, but the little man was nowhere to be found. He didn't even answer his pages. It was unlike him to ignore calls for long.

Admiral Mirson gave his final orders to the remainder of the Captains and other commanding officers around him. For the moment Briar assisted Fleet Admiral Arget'ni with the status of the remaining ships. Admiral Keeton had the _Salem_ under control, and as soon as the docking bays were released from combat status, the damaged ships would be able to enter for repairs.

"Captain Briar?"

Nevada turned at the sound of the voice. "Anderson. How may I help you?"

Anderson paused a moment to blow his nose, then pocketed his handkerchief. "Admiral Mirson would like you to talk to the commanding officer of the Chozo vessels, to ask for aid."

Briar had never spoken to the Chozo before, even though Vera had talked about them at length. "Yes sir. Is there anything else?"

"We might also need transport in the event things go sour and the jump gates are locked down again."

Nevada nodded in understanding. "I will see what I can do," he left quietly, thankful to be away from the crunch of other officers, yet dreading what the Chozo may have in store for him. They were a more advanced race, and their general disposition relayed that. The doors opened, allowing him access to the main hall near the bridge. His new uniform fit well, and the few crew members of the Mabus that he passed, paused and saluted respectfully. The Chozo wouldn't be hard to find. Even with this comfortable mix of other races, they stood out, and everyone kept track of their location. Briar only needed to ask a few people to locate the one he needed to speak to.

Solstice was in the med bay, standing near one side, and seemingly giving orders to a few others in the room. The first thing Briar noticed wasn't their height, or even their presence; it was their smell. Like flowers and food. Soft floral scents layered over the aroma of down and the hard musk of scales. Underneath that, he could almost taste their blood and muscle. As a child he would hunt small game, he remembered the feeling of holding a small creature's neck in his teeth, the small flutter of their pulse as they surrendered to him. For a moment he wondered what it would feel like to have one of these Chozo between his teeth, to part scales and feathers with his tongue and—

He snapped out of his thoughts when he saw the avian's feathers rise. Its eyes became round and green, framed in white and blue. Damn. The prey had spotted him.

Sensing the presence of another predator in the room, Solstice waved her escorts away, and they went to assist the various doctors and nurses around the room. In two long strides Solstice closed the distance between herself and Briar. "You must be Captain Nevada Briar. Angseth's mate."

Briar regained his composure, and made a mental note to drop by a mess hall later to grab some food. Come to think of it, he hadn't eaten in the past twenty four hours. "Yes. And you m-must be Solstice. Vera spoke of you," he noted that Solstice hadn't dropped her guard in the slightest, despite his involuntary feline stutter. _Why the __**hell**__ did they have to be birds? _"How did you know?"

Some of the Chozo's feathers smoothed. "Angseth had a similar reaction to me when we first met."

Captain Briar opened his mouth to speak again, then caught the familiar scent of hydraulic fluid and coolant. He turned, seeking the source of the scent. For the moment Solstice was forgotten. He moved toward a partitioned off area, and stepped behind the screens. On a bed before him was a mass of feathers and scales. Briar shook his head in disbelief, but this familiar scent, and ragged tone of its breathing confirmed all suspicions. Nevada drew closer to the bed.

"…Serec?" The question dropped from his lips like a weight.

Jade green scales heaved as white and brown feathers smoothed. His beak was dark brown in color, slightly hooked toward the tip and covered in small etchings. His brown/amber eyes opened and regarded Briar sleepily. "I was wondering when you'd get promoted."

"Serec?"

"I'm sorry I hid from you," Serec whispered. "Everyone else…was so easy to fool, but you…from the first day we met you were one step away from discovering my identity."

Nevada's hands slipped behind his back. Serec did not look well. He breathed heavily, while still remaining as still as a stone. Seated near him was another Chozo. This one wearing a mechanics uniform that Nevada found familiar. Sacul. He didn't hear so much as smell Solstice enter the room behind him. "You used a high grade PLASMA…and the smell of coolant. You used them to fool my senses… for years," Briar closed his eyes, remembering the first day they had met at the academy. He had asked Serec what he had just eaten, because it smelled delicious. Serec had gotten a horrified look in his eye, then laughed it off. After that there had always been the presence of coolant and other fluids around him. So much that he and Vera joked about it constantly. "You don't need to hide from me anymore Serec. Vera has told me everything."

Serec looked past Briar to Solstice. "Its gone too far Solstice. This bickering has gone on long enough. I have faith in Angseth, but we need to give the Confederation a fighting chance. Siairus drew them in on purpose. Its no longer just our fight."

Briars ears picked up. Vera had mentioned that name in her report. "If either of you have any information to share, please do it now. My mate is out there chasing a ghost for some mission you had put her on. If she succeeds, then both she and Samus will have their hands full."

Solstice's feathers smoothed as she turned away. "My hands are tied. If it is fate that they succeed, then-"

_"FATE?"_ Briar hissed, turning suddenly. His hands left his back and appeared at his sides. Serec had never seen him so angry. "Fate is a thinly veiled excuse for refusal to take responsibility for ones actions. I cannot make you assist us, but I ask you for an opportunity to increase our chance for success. If I heard correctly, Siairus is about to be sworn in as a System Admiral. Nothing can come of this save for open war between our peoples. Is that fate? Or are the Chozo incapable of controlling their own destiny even though they have conquered every other aspect of their lives?"

Solstice's light blue feathers rose, making her seem larger and more intimidating. "I cannot go against the will of my-"

"Blow it out of your ass, Solstice," Sacul said bitterly. "He's right and you know it. Siairus was your mate. You've been sitting on the sidelines because you still love him and feel bad for your own betrayal. Take a damn stand and end this. Serec and I may have been Acopiltaczet once, but we are proud Confederation Citizens now, and as such are powerless to assist on this side of the galaxy. Help us."

Solstice's feathers smoothed, and she lost some of her proud posture. "I understand now why Angseth is your mate," she rested her eyes on Briar. "As a favor to old friends. I may be exiled for this, but go tell your Admiral that he has the aid of my ships. Our destiny is our own."

Nevada returned his hands to his back. "Thank you Solstice."

* * *

Admiral Mizzen shuffled along the first row of plants in his large greenhouse. It was called a greenhouse but could easily double as a mansion if needed. The botanical garden boasted many ponds, fountains, stone steps and pathways that wound and twisted around many forms of alien plant life. Everything from Terra's Magnolia Grandiflora to Night Lilies from Thrazes VII. Mizzen's large hooves clopped and scraped along the stone pathways; in one hand he held a small metal bucket, in the other, a watering wand. This garden on Anubus4 was one of his many pet projects. He found it fitting to have a place of beauty and quiet nestled within a compound that was responsible for so much destruction. His large clawed fingers carefully examined the leaves of the plant before him, inspecting for any signs of disease. Hibiscus were one of his favorites from Terra, partly because of their colorful blossoms, and mostly because his race found them to be edible. They had been considered foods of the gods when merchants first came to his world and began to sell them. And now that he had found a planet of suitable atmosphere and soil composition, Mizzen grew his own prized collection of plants.

His clawed fingers found a dead leaf, and removed it. This was his place of quiet, his place of solace, and no one disturbed him while he was among his precious flora. This was where he came to think, to relax and unwind, to remove all the imperfections of the world with a touch of his fingers. Officers would pass by one of the many entrances to the garden and cautiously observe Mizzen as he worked, carefully picking his way along the pathways, tail slightly raised so as not to crush the grass or other ground clinging plants. They knew his wrath, and so far only one Marine had been brazen enough to test it. His temper was almost legendary, and everyone in the Pentacle knew that he was not above making someone "disappear." Mizzen preferred to view his management practices the way one would care for plants. Usually diseased leaves would fall off, the central plant grateful to be rid of it. However sometimes the infection would run too deeply, and the entire plant would need to be treated, or eventually destroyed to save the others. The Pentacle ran very much like his garden. A place for everything, and everything in its place. All working together for the sake of a greater ecosystem.

Admiral Mizzen hadn't been the one to establish the Pentacle, but it had grown and flourished under his command. Long ago Anubus IV had been an uninhabitable desert world, with continent-sized sand storms and thin atmosphere. Then the Federation, in a show of power and newly discovered technology, decided that they would try to terra-form the planet. At the time there had been a lack of livable worlds, and once terra-formed Anubus IV would provide not only ideal colonization grounds, but also an outpost for military means. And thus the Pentacle was created. The Pentacle was one of the only three other sights in the Confederation that could be seen plainly from space. As its name suggested, it resembled a large five-pointed star mounted in the center of the largest continent. The Pentacle had originally begun life as a containment space for the terra forming. Once the interior of the Pentacle had been terra-formed, it served as a springboard to terra-form the rest of the planet. One thousand years later, the entire world had become one lush green paradise. However once the world had been given the all-clear for colonization, other more attractive planets had been discovered, and resources had been sent to them instead.

The Pentacle then became a training ground and academy for ground troops, as well as emergency aid forces. Once the atmosphere had been stabilized, the large dust storms had evolved into even larger hurricanes and typhoons that worked their way around the planet, leaving huge swaths of scarred land behind them. The Pentacle served as a stronghold yet again, and the engineering core created a labyrinth of tunnels and chambers below the surface. Before Mizzen had been elected as System Admiral, the base had fallen into disuse, the troop training having been moved to other worlds or simulated environments. One of Mizzen's first pet projects had been the renovation and restoration of the Pentacle. He added more tunnels, large hangars, storage areas, troops barracks, myriad research facilities, training rooms, and freight elevators. The Pentacle was completely self-sufficient and could support a full staff topping just over five hundred thousand souls for more than 500 years with no contact with outside worlds. He dug deeper into the planets crust, carving out large caverns and facilities to use for all manner of research. And research he did. No fewer than one hundred and fifty new weapons, and thirty five different suit upgrades had been invented, tested, and initially manufactured here. The Pentacle had practically paid for itself.

And none of the Seven Admirals doubted its strength and value to the Galactic Confederation.

He would gladly patrol the halls on a daily basis. Inspecting each and every crevice to ensure that the Pentacle was operating at peak efficiency. There was no such thing as a safe place for the lazy to hide. Mizzen never had a pattern to his movements, or a reason to drop in unexpectedly on various troop exercises. Long-term residents told new comers to the Pentacle; "The Admiral could be here at any time. Be on your guard." Mizzen kept very few humans on staff. Those that did make the cut were often of dense world stock. The majority of his forces were a random mix of different races, some even more fierce than his own.

Argoths were considered a rarity. Only five members of his species had ever been approved for space travel in the three hundred years that they had been members of the Federation and later the Confederation. Even then, only one Argoth was allowed off-planet at a given time, and at a great price. Mizzen had been selected as his generation's representative. For this honor he had been forbidden to take a mate, or to return to his native world. Even as a System Admiral, he could only watch from orbit as his little dust ball of a home planet spun around its twin suns. Every year spent in space became more awkward due his ever-increasing size. Much like the humans' tales of dragons, his body continued to grow larger as his environment allowed. When he first stepped onto a battle cruiser, his immature crown of horns barely reached nine feet high. Now a full seventy-five years later his crest had matured, and he had grown to a height of twenty feet and he weighed over eight tons. Due to a rich diet of whatever he wanted, he looked forward to a long and happy life of getting bigger and achieving bigger and better things.

Admiral Mizzen moved from the Hibiscus and picked his way to a smaller enclosed green house. He moved with disturbing grace and stealth for a being of his size and weight. He left no evidence, not one leaf fell, or blade of grass crushed. Unlike the garden, this greenhouse was not open to public traffic. The atmosphere in the small glass room had been regulated to keep the plants lining the shelves at their peak. He often traveled with a few of these plants when he was away for more than a week, and they never ceased to create a stir when he passed through customs with several of these small earthenware pots locked safely into carrying cases. The common Terran name for these plants was "orchid." Often the other Admirals would joke about his obsession with Terran plant life, but their mathematical beauty took Mizzen, complex natural expressions of fractals given color and life. Plant life on his home world was limited to moss and grasses, with few trees, and even fewer flowering plants. His collection of orchids was the envy of most botanists in the Confederation, and even of a few on Terra, who felt that if anyone in the universe should have a prized collection of orchids, it should be a native of the world the plants came from. From such a simple plant, with broad leathery dark green leaves, a single stalk sprouted, simple and unassuming like the rest. And then when conditions were right, a small bud would appear, joined by others, and from these absurdly plain bulbs came the most beautiful and delicate blooms in the known universe. They would open in a riot of color, shape and texture. Some species of the plant had broad multicolored and patterned petals, others resembled insects, some had many petals that would resemble stars or other geometric shapes. All were unique, and he felt honored to be in the presence of so many unique life forms.

Angseth had been the brazen one. She had ignored all of the warnings of her fellow marines and came to seek him out one day while he was working in the garden. Not only did she do that, but the human woman had the audacity to find him in his greenhouse, surrounded by his orchids. Time had erased her reason for finding him there, Mizzen forgot everything except his rage at having been disturbed. He remembered that the day had not been his best, and he was already in a foul mood. She was as good of a scapegoat as any. Even though he was easily four times her size, she stood there and listened to him bellow, unfazed by his voice or stamping of hooves. And after his anger subsided Mizzen realized that she was in the right place after all. Angseth had come from very simple beginnings, like the orchids, she didn't have many distinguishing features to set her apart from the others that passed through his command. But with the proper nourishment and environment, she would bloom, and he wanted to know what kind of beautiful blossoms she would produce.

The Admiral stopped before one his favorite orchids. It had broad flat petals tinted pale pink, and darkening toward the center of the blossom. Angseth had giggled when she saw this bloom. When he inquired to know what had amused her, she blushed and stated that the blooms resembled a certain part of the human female anatomy. He later confirmed her observation, and he never did look at this one orchid the same way again. That had been many years ago, and Angseth had not stepped foot in the Pentacle since. He watched and helped her grow until he saw fit to place her in command of her own Battlecruiser.

And now…she was no longer his to control. She had always been insubordinate, but never on this great a scale. He had told her to remain in her place on the Araia. He knew that his orders had been explicit enough, he knew by looking into her eyes that she understood. Her presence among the Chozo would have been very helpful if the stupid bitch had only stayed put. Unconsciously he reached for the pale pink orchid before him, clawed fingers threatened to bruise the bloom. He caught himself before any damage could be done. Angseth could be dealt with later, he had his own methods for dealing with her defiance. Like some of his precious plants, she had become diseased, but it was a disease that had always been there, lurking just under the surface of her dark skin. Perhaps his earlier treatments had not been harsh enough, either way, it was a problem he would need to address once this whole business with Draco was finished.

His com beeped twice, discreetly notifying him of an incoming message the he could listen to at his next earliest convenience. Damn shame he couldn't take off his digital leash before entering his gardens, but even he needed to follow the rules sometimes. Admiral Mizzen stepped out of the orchid house and walked over to a small storage shed to put away the bucket and watering wand. Once the tools had been properly stowed, he checked the message on the com. It was from one of his men down in the research and production labs. And it was news he wanted to hear.

_"Admiral, Stage 3 has been completed. All specimens have been safely stored and now await your orders to begin loading onto transport vessels."_

Short and to the point, the way he liked them. This plan between he and "Thomas" was finally coming to fruition, and nothing short of an act of the gods would be able to stop the wheels once they were in motion.

The Chozo would never know what hit them.

* * *

Vera felt her mild sense of nausea pass as her ship exited the strange in between space of the teleport. She didn't remember feeling nauseous the first time she traveled this way from the _Araia_ to Aether, but then again, several factors had changed since then. She was sure that from the _Salem_ to just outside Anubus IV was a much farther distance. And in her previous trip, she wasn't in the throes of a Phazon overdose.

_"That felt…odd,"_ Weavel commented over her com.

Angseth drew in deep breaths, anything to calm her already jittery nerves and stop her stomach from rolling. She didn't need to perform a health scan to know that something was wrong somewhere deep inside her. From her churning gut and constant adrenaline rush, she knew that her body was undergoing more abuse than it was willing to take. Her high spirits had fallen since entering the teleport, and if given a choice, she probably would have called it a night and checked into the nearest medbay.

Weavel sat awkwardly behind her, his large body barely able to fit within the small space. Angseth sat as far forward on her seat as possible, making a mental note that she would never ride tandem with someone else in a one-seat fighter. She powered down the engines and placed the fighter on standby.

_"Why are we stopping?"_

Angseth set the fighter on autopilot. For the moment it was just a slow impulse power. She opened her com line. "Please. I can smell and sense it on you," she turned and removed her helmet. "When were you planning on giving me that last bit of Phazon?"

Weavel knew better than to argue. The skin on her scalp was still burned and hairless. Black streaks of the Phazon sickness swelled in her veins and under her skin. She resembled a victim of some radioactive disaster. Her eyes had lost their playful brown luster. Now they were cold and grey, as soulless as a corpse. But even with her lack of expression, that hunger was still there. The craving and physical desire for Phazon. He thought carefully before answering. _"I wasn't planning on a time. Given the light of our current situation, I didn't want you to O.D. before we arrived."_

"Give it to me Weavel," she commanded. Her voice soft, yet demanding to be obeyed.

Time was slipping by. The cyborg knew that it would be a lost cause to keep it from her. She wouldn't move until she got her fix, or worse yet, she would break him open trying to find it. Weavel weighed his options. He doubted that he could talk her out of it now. Maybe before her illness had advanced to this point, but not now. He opened a compartment on his chest and pulled out a thin vial with just a thin faint blue sliver of Phazon inside, nothing more than a splinter really. She lifted her hand, and almost hesitated, but then quickly snatched it away, breaking the vial in the process.

Weavel turned away as she began to absorb the energy in the Phazon. Pulling it out of the fragment as if it were the last drop of water in the universe. Her armor began to glow anew. The dark veins on her scalp seemed to brighten, and her eyes regained some of their former life. An emotion he hadn't felt in a long time begin to creep along what remained of his guts and over his hardware, suffocating his thoughts.

_Guilt._

Before he could fully succumb to the sensation, his emotional inhibitor kicked in and suppressed the surge of hormones and chemicals running through his brain. Ah, his old friend the Emotional Inhibitor. Seen by some as the last token of lost humanity, but praised by others as a means of survival. A lot of checks and balances went into play to keep organic and cybernetic components working happily with each other. Emotions were an organic way of survival, however they could also overpower circuitry and cause much stress on the mechanics and hardware of cybernetic beings. An emotional inhibitor suppressed stronger emotions for the sake of saving the hardware. There had been reports of cyborgs who had completely overridden or burned out their inhibitors, and then proceeded to rip their bodies apart.

Angseth finished with the small shard, and then dropped it into a disposal compartment. She felt much better now. Almost normal. She pulled her helmet back on and opened her com line. "We made it past the one challenge, we're here. Now we have another big problem."

_"The Umbra."_

"Yep."

Vera checked her scans and her own memories of Anubus IV. The Umbra was an old, antiquated, expensive, and highly effective form of last-ditch defense. In orbit all around Anubus IV, were small and unmanned battle stations in a grid-like formation. The battle stations were programmed to fire on anything that entered into a set airspace. Angseth remembered watching video feed of the unified force of the Umbra reduce a decommissioned megacruiser into scrap metal in seconds, then pick off smaller pieces until nothing remained to mar the planets surface. Her little fighter would not stand a chance. The only way to get near the planet was through one of two gates, one located on either side of the planet. To even get near the gates she would need special clearance, and even more certification to pass through. If they managed to get past the Umbra in one piece, anything the Pentacle could throw at them would be a cakewalk.

_Get me past the Umbra and bring on the Metroids!_

Weavel shifted again behind her. _"Any ideas Private?"_

"I'm thinking," Angseth mumbled. There had never, ever, been a successful attack on Anubus IV due to the Umbra's protective field. Once again, she was supposed to perform the impossible. _These bastards are getting too comfortable in asking miracles of me._ Her gaze drifted back to her scans, and her poor fighter was trying its best to refresh its charts after a sudden jump from one end of the universe to the next. The Chozo couldn't have put them any closer without risking certain death. Already they would be within distance of any mid-range scanners around Anubus IV. As a precaution, she shut down a few of her coms systems.

_"If we stealthed your craft, do you think we could slip past the gates?"_

"Not a chance. I don't have high caliber enough generators for that. This ship was designed to take and give a beating, not spying," Angseth said flatly. "Besides, the Umbra is programmed to fire on anything that comes close. Comets, meteors, ships that have lost their navigation that are carrying refugees," she winced at that last example. There had never been a messier amount of paperwork that she had been involved in.

_"So how do we get in?"_ Weavel said with a hint of sarcasm in his computerized voice. Angseth had to chuckle. Most vocal cords let alone speaking units had the ability to affect their speech with sarcasm notes.

"The whole idea of the Umbra is we don't."

_ "If we sit around long enough the Chozo might do it for us."_

"I would throw myself upon my enemies spears before I allow that to happen."

Their conversation was interrupted by one of her fighters alarm systems.

_"What is that for?"_

Angseth reluctantly started up the engines again. "It's a proximity alert. We're in the path of another ship that's coming out of warp. Gotta move if I don't want to end up in yet another wreck." The fighter scrambled out of the path of the incoming ship, out of curiosity, she checked the vessels itinerary. "It's a large troop transport with surface to space capability. One of the newer models too…And it's heading for Anubus IV."

_"That means that it would have clearance to get past the Umbra. Couldn't we steal those codes?"_

"No…" she giggled once. "But I do have a better idea," the solution was so simple once the opportunity presented itself. "We're gonna hitch a ride."

_"On that?"_

"Yeah, a little trick Aran taught me," she swung her fighter around and began heading for the butt-end of the transport, directly in the path of its wake. To his credit, Weavel didn't flinch or ask what the hell she was doing, but she did see his grip noticeably tighten on the supports around him. Even though she had performed this maneuver only once before, since then she had been going over the procedure in her mind, practicing and compensating for numerous kinds of fields and shapes of ships.

Her fighter hit the first layer of the ships Aura and wake. _Disabling primary shields._ Angseth shut down the appropriate fields and systems. Her breath caught in her throat and steamed the interior of her HUD. _Disabling secondary shields and targeting systems._ She progressed smoothly until the next layer of friction. Weavel kept a level head as more systems shut down around him. _Disabling tertiary shields and navigation systems._ The fighter began to shake and groan, but Angseth pressed on. This was the hardest part, the final penetration of the target ships Aura, and as much as she hated to admit, no amount of scans or incoming information in the universe could tell her exactly when to undergo a full system shut down. She would just need to trust her churning gut and instinct. "Weavel, the ride will be rough for a moment."

_"I'm ready."_

She checked her course by the visual feed on her holo screens, and burned the image of her target landing area in her mind. She patched all remaining video feeds into her HUD. "Shutting down all remaining systems." The screens flickered out and the engines whined to a stop. Once more inertia carried them forward. When the outside turbulence lessened, she quickly activated the engines and navigation, then twisted the steering bar while simultaneously activating her docking clamps. The fighter slammed into the ship, but stilled as the rest of the systems booted back up.

Weavel slowly let go of the supports. _"Mind telling me what we just did."_

Angseth reactivated her external feeds and smugly referred to the view in her holo screens. Outside the ship he could see the underbelly of the transport. "I hitched a ride."

_"Where did you learn that?"_

Vera turned her attention back to her holo screens. "When we make it out of this, I'll show you."

Both grew quiet as the transport neared the closest gate of the Umbra. _"Any plans for when we pass through?"_ Weavel asked.

"Not really. I was trying to remember more about the Pentacle," there was something about the taste of Phazon that made it harder to concentrate. It crawled up her throat and settled on her tongue. Bitter and thick. Her stomach churned from the stress of her situation and loss of her humanity. Although Angseth didn't know it yet, her body had given up. She had tasted death before, but never in the embrace of this destructive radiation. She tried to push all thoughts to the back of her mind, yet Briars words still rang in her ears. It began to sound less like a confession of love and more like a desperate good bye. With Weavel at her back she was further reminded of her decent onto this severe underworld of her addiction. The world was blurred and blue before her, from the curve of the planets atmosphere to the instruments of the control panel in her own vision.

_Return with your shield or on it._

At this point she was beginning to have serious doubts as to her ability to do either. If she made it through planet fall, that would be impressive in itself. As she studied the underside of the transport she was attached to, she began to have serious doubts of her abilities. She had lost both her morph ball and her arm cannon. The only tools she had at her disposal were the third rate cybernetics the Siafu had given her, and Weavel's Battlehammer. How could she even hope to penetrate a fortress as deep and well defended as the Pentacle?

Weavel tapped her on the shoulder. As if he had read her thoughts and responded in a method that she could understand. He was here with her. In one way or another, she could depend on him, and he was here. Even though in a pinch she would prefer Briar at her back, Weavel was the best she had. The transport passed through the Gate, as easily as if her fighter had never snuck a ride aboard it.

_"I can't believe that worked,"_

_Neither can I._

But Vera kept that comment to herself.

_But there is Phazon._ The back of her brain countered. Yes, the Phazon. So addictive and right now dictating her every movement. She wanted to be free of it, free of the churning in her stomach, free of the panic in her chest and gag reflex in her throat. Eventually it would pass, or would it?

Tension began to burn in her chest, her stomach seemed to churn and roll. She could feel the adrenaline course through her arms and legs. Immediately she grabbed for a bag near the base of her seat. She had placed these here long ago when it became apparent that she would be making regular jumps in her fighter. With the click of a few toggles and locks, the helmet flew free of her head and she lifted the paper bag to her mouth in an all-to-practiced maneuver. Unconsciously she drew in a deep breath and her body reacted in the familiar way.

Angseth could feel the bile burn its way up her throat and into her mouth. It wasn't the first time she had puked in zero-g and gods willing it wouldn't be the last time either. The only thing she could hope for was that she wouldn't get too much of it all over the inside of her craft. Weavel leaned over, concerned and curious for the moment. He had seen humans do this before, but had never reacted in this manner. Angseth's body tensed as she retched, and the bag filled. Soon she pulled away, and cast the bag into a disposal compartment. However not before Weavel noticed red blood staining the outside of the bag.

"_Angseth?"_ He asked. Worry did not show in his synthesized voice, but that didn't mean he couldn't express it.

"I'm fine."

"You just,"

"I'm fine Weavel, I always get sick after a jump."

Weavel didn't press the matter any further. He didn't know enough about human physiology to pursue questioning. Still the blood on the inside of the bag concerned him. He knew that he didn't stand a chance of surviving in the Pentacle without her, and he really couldn't bring himself to baby-sit her on their way through what promised to be the worst dungeon he had ever encountered. He still needed her alive and relatively well if he was to have any hope of freeing Aran. Right now things didn't look too promising. _I don't put much faith in the Lieutenant Briar's threat, but after what happened on Rovien, I don't want to risk his wrath either._

Angseth donned her helmet again and returned her hands to their proper place in the grips. "I have a plan,"

"_Go on."_

Vera took another breath, to be sure the shakes had subsided and also to make certain that her gag reflex wasn't going to kick in again. "I'm curious as to the destination of this troop carrier. There are no other bases on this planet other than the Pentacle, but rarely does the Pentacle ever request a carrier. Staff is usually rotated out in smaller groups. That allows for longer terms of service and tighter security. I can try accessing their coms, but that may compromise any stealth we may have gained. As is I'm running in silent mode, with only basic life support functions active. We need to get near or in the Pentacle before they have a chance to shoot us out of the sky. Once we get there we will need to improvise, but as long as we are working together, we can make it."

"_Angseth?"_ He wasn't sure what to make of her words. Working together? Wasn't that what they were already doing?

Vera remained silent. Right now there was only her mission. If she thought about anything outside that then she would be overcome by the burden and consequences in the very likely event she screwed everything up. Weavel had no choice but to follow her. _It seemed so easy when I read all those stories about heroes and their great deeds. No where did they ever say the hero was ever afraid, or had backed down from a fight. All of them seem so godlike and inhuman. I am not a hero. I AM scared out of my mind right now. But I am here._ _I'm responsible for so many,_ she told herself. _Not only the life of my crew, but that of Weavel, Samus, and the entirety of the Confederation…And I thought I was under a lot of stress before._

Weavel once again grabbed a hold of the support frame on the interior of the fighter. The troop transport began planet fall, allowing the ships Aura to bear the brunt of the atmospheric friction around them. Time was slipping away from them. Every last second was precious. His internal thoughts and gears were spinning in anticipation. Fear, excitement, dread, hope, all these emotions pulled and screamed out concerns. Angseth remained calm. The cyborg didn't know how to read her. He had seen how she had reacted on _Rovien_ when faced with an equally challenging mission, and how she led an army of Siafu on the _Salem_ against the Kriken swarm. How did she feel now that the enemy would be her own people? Would she kill them without thought as she had slain the Siafu on Ridley's flagship? Would she allow him to carve a path through Confederation bodies instead? He sensed none of the excitement in her that he had back then. Weavel ventured a quick scan of her vitals, and the returning information did nothing to calm him.

Angseth was dying.

The Phazon, combined with her injuries from both Ridley and the Kriken, had finally taken a fatal toll on her body. The Phazon was rotting her from the inside out, breaking down the cellular structure of her tissue and muscle fiber, distorting her brain functions, and sending her liver and kidneys into final stages of shut-down. And still this woman pressed on. How in the cosmos could anyone continue moving after such abuse?

The atmospheric friction ceased, and the troop transport continued down toward the planets surface. Weavel reached out and rested his hand on Angseth's shoulder, before he could say anything, she spoke for him.

"We are warriors. We exist to fight," she turned. Her Phazon dead eyes seemingly piercing through her visor. "We're coming in toward the Pentacle. I suggest you use that heavy stealth shield you had on when I first met you on TallonIV. We will need it."

Weavel closed down the status screens in his HUD. _"What is your plan?"_

Angseth chuckled darkly. "This transport is definitely heading to the Pentacle. When it gets close enough, I'll pop the canopy on my fighter, and then we'll free-fall to the ground. I'm sure that you've done exercises like this in the past."

"_Yes."_

"Once we're on the ground, then we can sneak into the Pentacle, hopefully undetected. That's where your stealth shield will come in. You don't have a true cloaking device on you, but you are able to jam most varieties of scanner. If memory serves me, its common for ships of this size to drop random pieces of space debris upon atmosphere re-entry. Most of it burns up, but sometimes large chunks survive. Chances are, if visual scans catch something dropping off this transport, they won't think anything of it, especially if it doesn't show up on any other scans-" Angseth suddenly stopped speaking and began coughing. Weavel waited until she had finished, resisting the urge to scan her body again. "From there we will just need to wing it. Got that?"

"_Yes."_

Angseth fell silent again. Then asked. "Do the Siafu have any gods they worship or pray to?"

The speaker mounted on Weavel's shoulder crackled. _"One for each occasion, and many more."_

"Can I have the names of a few? We're gonna need the help of a higher power, and I think I've already asked too much of mine."

* * *

The troop transport had finally entered Pentacle airspace. Already Admiral Mizzen had received confirmation from the Western Gate that the ship had passed through safely, and it would be only a matter of moments before it touched down on the landing strip within the Pentacle. He moved from the garden to the familiar halls of his command center located on the eastern most point of the Pentacle. Outside the command center and contained within the walls of the fortress, were the flight lines and landing strips. Air and spacecraft could land, refuel, and have cargo or troops loaded in one stop. Huge freight elevators brought up goods and troops from the deepest areas of the Pentacle, and on occasion, could even store smaller craft. The Admiral rode one of the many elevators in the command center to the main control tower. His presence wasn't requested, but he visited as part of his regular rounds. The centaur's com beeped to signify a safe landing of the transport. Good. Things were going smoothly.

Sounds of a normal busy day flickered through the air as traffic controllers guided numerous crafts to landing points. Admiral Mizzen stepped into the center of the room to observe the comings and goings on the main holo monitor. He kept his hands folded behind his back, only moving them to more closely examine a status screen or data pad that one of his crew would bring forward. The more experienced of his men would know that he was just killing time. A universe away Syren would soon be swearing in a new System Admiral, and only Mizzen knew of the massive change that the Confederation would undergo. For the moment he only had to wait until he had received word from Thomas. By then his newest creations would be ready for the battlefield. Mizzen had been worried a week ago, but as the time drew closer his worries subsided. Even though Thomas's official inauguration was only twenty-four hours away, he still could not afford to rest on his laurels.

"Admiral?" One of the techs called out.

"Speak," Mizzen's voice boomed through the small space, even disrupting the holo screen before him.

"Admiral, I'm receiving requests from the ground crew for your presence on the flight line. Sir"

Mizzen spared the man the brunt of his temper. "I'm preoccupied. What is the problem?"

"The transport seems to have collected a strange bit of debris. Other than that the Commander on the ground won't give me any more information…Sir" The tech seemed to almost flinch when Mizzen leaned his massive form over the mans shoulder to check on the scans.

Normally he would have ignored it, normally he would have retired to his office and let one of his assistants handle it. But the timing was too fragile, and so many things could still go wrong before he could implement his plans. "Quarantine the vessel until I've looked at it."

"Yes sir."

Admiral Mizzen then walked back to the elevator and stepped inside. Not now. He couldn't afford to lose a transport now. Five others were on their way, and once they arrived, they had to adhere to a very strict timetable. Once he left the command center, it took him minutes to reach the transport on the flight line. The ground crew had sectioned off the area, and most of the commanders stood clustered around the aft end of the craft.

"Admiral!" Commander Grave separated from the group and came running over.

From this distance the transport looked fine, like so many others he had seen come through here. He remained quiet and stoic as voices erupted around him. Toward the front of the craft, he could make out the flight crew seated inside a shuttle, apparently giving reports.

"I have no idea what to make of it Admiral-Sir, this is the first time I've ever seen anything like it." Commander Grave led the Admiral around to the back of the transport. Mizzen stepped slowly, his large hooves clapping against the concrete surface of the runway. At first he saw what seemed to be a wing-tip, but that couldn't be. As he drew closer, he began to make more sense of the scene. Perched underneath the ship, and barely clearing the ground, was an older model Confederation fighter. It was flat black in color with twin white bands around each wing. Admiral Mizzen knew this fighter. He had been the one to sign the paperwork for its sale.

"Don't hesitate any longer. Get it out of there." Mizzen ordered.

It took almost twenty minutes to free the fighter from the bottom of the transport, and then right it on the runway. Mizzen didn't need to look inside, or bother hunting down the blown canopy, but he leaned in anyway. What was Captain Angseth doing here? And how did she get clear across the universe so damn quickly? He already knew _why_ she was here, but the _how_ eluded him.

Mizzen stood calmly and quietly. The bitch had gone against him for the last damn time. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his com device, then depressed a button and summoned his chief security officer. "Tuolagat."

"Sir!"

"Place everyone on high alert. We have an intruder." Mizzen deactivated the com slowly. Perhaps he would need to kill the disease before it could flower. Pity. She had such potential.

* * *

It took a moment for Weavel's systems to reboot. When Angseth had said that she was going to execute a drop maneuver, he wasn't quite sure exactly what she had meant. Without warning the Stupid Marine had popped the canopy on her fighter, and sent both of them free-falling toward the ground. It was by sheer luck alone that he had managed to grab her and pull her close enough for his stealth shield to cover both of them. By using their combined boosters in short alternating bursts, they were able to control their fall, and subsequently crash land through a glass roof of some kind. The impact knocked Weavel's systems out of commission for a moment, and while life support hadn't been affected, his guidance and coms systems needed to reload.

He knew his coms were back up and running when he heard Angseth giggling. Once his guidance systems were up, his inertial mapping came closely behind it. The cyborgs HUD cleared of all random programs and alerts as he focused on the present. Both he and Angseth had landed in a tree. A very big tree with broad green smooth leaves and white blossoms. He hung upside down, one foot caught in a fork of a branch. Angseth was likewise, only a few branches farther down and closer to the ground. She giggled, her arms flailing and feet kicking as she struggled to free herself. Weavel heard a crack and her body began to fall. Quickly he snapped out with his left hand and extended a grapple beam, locking onto her foot as branches and leaves fell in a shower around her.

"Thanks Weavel." She laughed. "Aww man, Mizzen is going to kill me for taking out one of his Magnolias!"

Simultaneously, their scanners blipped and her giggles stopped suddenly. Both of them froze, silent and still as a few guards walked underneath the tree. Angseth pulled her hands in close and crossed her arms across her chest. Weavel pondered her movements for a moment then realized what she was doing. On the back of either hand there were blue glowing crystals. She was covering them to hide their light. He took her lead and turned down the backlighting on his HUD. They waited for several tense moments until the guards moved on. _"Where to now?"_ He asked over their com line.

"When we get out of this tree, head north, and there will be an exhaust shaft that leads to the lower levels ." She whispered back. "Expect fans and other obstacles. There are exhaust ports all over the green house. The plants serve as part of the air filtration system of the lower corridors of the Pentacle. Once down there we can find a security room and hopefully a map of this place. I've only been here once, and that was a long time ago. I don't know how it's changed."

Weavel grabbed a nearby branch. _"Right, grab something, I'm deactivating the grapple beam."_

Angseth followed his advice and braced herself on a few branches. She felt the beam leave her foot and her weight settled on her hands. She then corrected herself and began climbing to the ground. She felt out of place when her booted armored feet touched the grass underneath the tree. Vera remembered walking around this garden wearing casual clothes, and on very few occasions, in uniform, but never in full armor. From here she could see the exhaust port, and the many flowering bushes and trees would provide perfect cover for them. "I'll cover you, go first." Angseth took a defensive position behind a bush as Weavel dropped down from the tree. He then ran toward the hatch, soundlessly opening it, then held it as Angseth came running over and climbed inside. She quickly activated her gravity boots and used their magnetic force to cling to the walls of the exhaust tube. Weavel followed, closing the hatch behind him.

_"How long until they find out we're here?"_

"Don't know. But I'm operating on the assumption that they know already. Keep your guard up and scanners active. I've got my com line on a tight band, but its still Confederation encryption. If someone really wanted to listen in, they could." She continued climbing down the tube. "I think I see a fan down there. It's not on though. Wherever there is a fan, there should be a couple of vents that lead to a corresponding level. I'm thinking we'll need to go down at least twenty levels before it's safe to step out. This shaft probably goes down a good way, but I don't know how many bends, screens or other fans may be waiting. Given the interior of the pipe, it probably leads to a waste incinerator."

_"Then move, I'll go down first."_

"Why-"

Weavel carefully placed his hands over hers, then slid down before her, so close she could hear and feel the hum of his servos. _"If any fans are operational, then I can take care of them. I also need you alive to get Aran. You aren't doing so well Private. I'd like to increase our chances of getting out of this pipe without getting burned."_

"Our chances are good. There should be hatches along the way that are used for cleaning and maintenance."

_"That will do. If it becomes too hot, we escape through the nearest hatch."_ Weavel suddenly let go of the wall, and began to free-fall down the pipe. For the moment Vera held herself suspended over the pit. From the depths she could hear the steady sound of Weavel's Battlehammer as he destroyed screens and fans in his decent.

_Damn, can't rest on my laurels now._ Angseth thought as she let go of the walls and dropped down after him. _Every last second counts._

Before her in the darkness, she cold see the tell-tale flicker of light as Weavel continued to fall. He suddenly stopped, then held his left arm out and caught Angseth as she dropped past.

_"We can't go any further. The air is getting too hot, and there is a layer of poisonous corrosive gas." _Weavel's grip tightened around her waist as he pulled her closer to the ledge. _"Can you unlock this hatch?"_

"Yeah." Angseth braced herself against the pipe, then referenced her HUD. Soon security protocols and numerous codes scrolled across her screen until she found a code for this door. She heard a clunk as the locks released. Weavel reached out and grabbed the manual crank, and used it to pop the door open.

The hatch dumped them into a maintenance hall. Each took a defensive position, covering the other. Angseth whispered softly over her com line. "There should be a security room further down the hall. From there we can get a map of the area."

_"Lead the way Captain."_

Vera checked her HUD again. In one corner she had placed a counter. One hour and fifteen minutes left until the cockatoos of the damned showed up and ended life as she knew it. They had to hurry. She began running at a full-sprint up the hall, ignoring any other rooms until she found a security terminal. Ammo would be nice, and so would powercells or medicine, but they only came for one thing, and that would be the only thing she would actively seek. Weavel kept pace behind her.

"Here." She stopped near another door. With another system scan, it spiraled open. Two marines in armor looked up from their posts. Before they could raise any questions, Weavel shot past her and fired into the room. "Hey!" Vera called out.

_"Relax, I only stunned them."_ Weavel tried to assure her.

Vera hissed under her breath, then slipped in after him. She paused a moment to shut and lock the door. By instinct she scanned the room searching for the Marines that Weavel had shot. One lay near the door, and another was slumped across the security terminal. Angseth ran over and grabbed his feet, then pulled him away. As an added measure, she pulled the power cells out of their armor and added them to her own nearly drained collection.

Weavel took two steps near the terminal, and Angseth heard a whine. The cyborgs body suddenly jerked. "Weavel?!" She searched the room, and ceiling for another attacker. He suddenly slumped to the floor, as if he had been deactivated.

"Not now, not now!" she ran to Weavel's side, still searching the room. She had heard that the Confederation had used a program to lock down computer terminals to prevent hacking. It would burn out or cause cyborgs to freeze in very much the same way. But Vera gave Weavel more credit to his abilities. "You had better be faking this-"

_"Ease up Sweetheart. He's right here and not going anywhere else," _another voice, foreign and almost nasal came over Weavel's com unit.

Vera leveled her rifle on him. Ridley had control of him once, it made perfect sense that he would try it again. Even though the voice didn't sound like Siairus, she didn't put anything past him now. "Who. The. Fuck. Are. You?"

Weavel's body stood and approached the terminal_._ It moved in jerks and lurches, as if the owner of the voice wasn't accustomed to using this body._ "Names Sand. I'm an acquaintance of Aran's and Weavel's. He's in the back right now and pissed as all get out, but if the two of you want to go any further, ya'll need my help,"_ he turned and began to access the security net, and didn't seem to have any problems with that.

Angseth slowly lowered her weapon, but kept her finger on the trigger.

_"Lets see what we have here…"_ Sand began to run Weavel's fingers over the holo keys. _"Me and Weavel met a while ago. He needed help to find Aran, so he came to me. Smart kid. I knew that eventually he'd be heading this way, and hell, a hacker like me can't resist a chance, no matter how slim to get into the Pentacle. Me and a few associates have been trying to crack this nut for decades. So I bottled up a simple A.I. and stored it in Weavel's circuits."_

"I still don't care who you are, bring Weavel back." Vera wasn't sure what she could do against an A.I. but knew she would start hitting things until she found a solution.

_"Ease up Sweet Cheeks. I'll bring your boyfriend back in a minute."_

Her cheeks burned while guilt flared up in her chest. For once she didn't have a snappy comeback.

Sand referenced the holo screens. _"Ah, here we go."_ He reached out with Weavel's hand and inserted it into a nearby port. Data began streaming across the screen. _"Right now I'm uploading the A.I to the main computer system. I'm still going to be hitching a ride, but Weavel will have control again. Oh hey! Here's that spent warp core we were looking for."_

"Warp core?"

_"That's how they snuck Aran in. They disguised her as a warp core."_

"You found Samus? Where?" Vera wanted to be skeptical, but right now all she could do was trust Weavel and Sand.

_"Way down, in Vault7. About five miles from here. The loading dock for the train is two decks down from here. After that, and a ten minute train ride, should get you to the general area. Vault7 is also located near a freight elevator system that might be an ideal escape route."_

"Why can't we just take that down?"

_"Oh it would have been a great idea if you had landed a little closer."_ Sand said with sarcasm. Even through Angseth's helmet he could see from her glowing eyes that his comment wasn't winning her approval. _"Look, I will do what I can to guide you to her. But I need time."_

"Time is something we don't have."

_ "Hehe. See you around Honeybun,"_ Weavel's body seemed to slump, then tightened back up again. His shoulders and head set in a way familiar to Angseth. He yanked his fist out of the port. _"That son of a bitch."_

"Glad to see you again too, Ronco." Sands voice came across the com line. Even though both he and Weavel were sharing a frequency, it sounded like two different voices. "Here are your maps." Angseth and Weavel's HUDs lit up. "I've taken the liberty of mapping out a path for you. Follow the little arrow prompts, and keep an eye on the counter in the lower right corner. Ya'guys have an hour and five minutes. Start running."

Vera hesitated until she saw Weavel start for the door. "Can we trust him?"

_"As much as I hate to admit it, Yes."_ He stepped into the hall, Battlehammer ready for combat. The moment Angseth joined him, the sound of loud cracks and booms caused both of them to flinch. They spun, weapons raised.

"Both of ya's chill," Sand chimed in. "I'm closing the blast doors to slow down any pursuers. Get those tiny bi-pedal bodies of yours moving."

Weavel yanked Angseth to her feet as more blast doors slammed shut, blocking any chance of retreat. She fell into step behind him, limping heavily on her cybernetic leg. Oh how quickly she had grown accustomed to the higher quality hardware the Chozo had given her and Ridley then destroyed. Not that she wasn't grateful to the Siafu for giving her what they could. Weavel suddenly stopped, then placed his hand on Vera's chest, forcing her against a wall as a ceiling turret opened fire on both of them. For a moment her world spun, and she fought back the nausea before losing her footing and sliding to the floor. Vaguely she made out Weavel's shape and form as he shot and disabled the turret. Satisfied that the threat had been eliminated, he returned to her side.

_"Get up. Lets go." _

Somehow Vera pulled herself to her feet and began running after him again. How could she have made such a rookie mistake? If Weavel hadn't been there that would have been the end of her rescue mission.

"You gonna be alright Cookie?" Sand asked.

"I will be fine." she breathed. But at this point, Angseth was beginning to have doubts.


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28:

"All aboard the Hijack Express!" Sands voice rang over Angseth's and Weavel's com units. Resistance was less than they had expected. Vera honestly didn't expect to make it this far. She thought that her body would have given up by now. Weavel had taken point, leaving her to stumble after him. On occasion he would reach down and grab her arm, or collar, or in one instance, her leg, and drag her to her feet to continue up the corridor. They had reached the mag-lev loading platform after fighting through several Marines and an onslaught of ceiling turrets The loading platform wasn't made of much. Just an open area with storage bays for equipment. The mag-lev itself was already there waiting for them, a long sleek monster of a train that had been the envy of other Admirals for years. The first few cars on the train were for passengers, the cars to the rear were reserved for cargo. She pondered leaning against the nearest column to take a brief nap, but knew that if she stopped now, she would never make it back out. Vera was secretly glad that Weavel took it upon himself to lead the way. He held his left hand near her collar incase he had to drag her along again. _He just might need to._ She thought. At the moment her stomach ached occasionally punctuated by a sharp burn. That combined with random waves of nausea was almost enough to sideline her.

They moved to the rear of the passenger section, and boarded, ready and looking for a fight. Angseth found the seats blissfully empty. "Clear." Her voice ripped from her throat. She had to remember not to speak so loudly next time.

Weavel entered after her, withdrawing his Battlehammer, but still keeping the pulse beam on standby. He watched as Vera stepped further into the car, her rifle still ready as she inspected the seats for any other passengers.

"I ain't getting no life signs," Sand said. The door closed behind them and the train began to move. Angseth paused by one seat, leaning on it momentarily. Her stomach was about to protest. Maybe if she kept still and calm then-no use. She quickly removed her helmet, and covered her mouth with her hand. Weavel stood back as she began coughing. The sound came from deep in her chest, raspy and painful. The fit passed, and Vera looked down at her palm and at the dark red thick mass of tissue in it. _Well that's a new one on me._ She pulled her hand back and wiped the mess on the seat behind her. Angseth could practically feel Weavel's scans flickering over her body. She turned, and then locked her cold dead gray gaze on the cyborg.

Weavel folded his arms and looked away from her. Odd behavior for a metal man. _"The Phazon is eating you alive. You need to be living when we confront Aran. She needs you, and I intend to keep you alive until we get there."_ He gestured harshly to the red smear on the seat. _"That can't be normal for humans."_

Vera looked away. "No. Its not. I know that you feel that I am a liability right now. That would account for dragging me halfway here. But I will make it under my own steam. If I need your help, I will ask for it. But I will make it." She picked up her helmet, feeling suddenly awkward and nauseous, not to mention at a loss for further words. She really didn't feel like doing much of anything right now except sleeping. She was missing her ship, her bed, her mates arms, hell-she even missed her alarm clock going off.

Weavel's hand suddenly rested heavily on her shoulder. They stood for a moment in tense silence, listening to the sound of the mag-lev slip through the tunnels. Neither of them exchanged words, or even a glance. Angseth breathed in deeply. Normally she would be alert. Her body didn't feel right, and that was causing her to be sloppy. She couldn't afford to lose her focus now. Weavel already knew how badly the Phazon had affected her. If she could just push herself to get to Vault 7, then Aran would be able to take care of the rest. Weavel spoke, his tone low, almost as if he were voicing his thoughts. _"I vowed to protect you. I promised Briar that I would bring you back safely."_

Vera breathed in deeply. Oh _now_ he wanted to talk. "And I promised to bring back Aran. I still can't forgive myself for what happened on FQ-359. If I hadn't been such a coward, she wouldn't be here." She covered his hand with her own. As much as she hated to admit it, she needed that contact and the small amount of comfort it offered. "All three of us will make it out Weavel. If we watch each others backs, we can do it." The mag-lev began to slow. Her hand slipped from his, and Weavel's fell from her shoulder.

_"We need to review these maps before we go,"_ he began scanning the files Sand had uploaded to his data bank. _"What do you want to do if we encounter resistance?"_

"Plow through them," she said blankly. "We ran out of time to be nice a while ago. Just try not to kill anyone."

_"Didn't I ask you the same thing before you faced Ridley?"_ His voice held a hint of annoyance.

Angseth sighed. "I tried. But if you're trying to make friends in the Confederation, it would look better on the Siafu if you didn't outright slaughter anyone."

Weavel noted that she said nothing about severely injuring them.

Vera checked her own maps. _What will I do when I find Aran? How do I save her?_ Despite her questions, she knew the answer would come to her instinctively when she found her. _Dear Goddess, please don't have her put up a fight. I'm not equipped to handle one with her right now._

Weavel caught Angseth as the mag-lev fully stopped, hand going for the collar once more. Sand once again spoke up. "Exit out the rear, and then go about twenty yards down the tunnel. To your left will be a maintenance door. Follow the maps to an elevator shaft. That should be a straight shot to Vault 7. Sorry I can't do any better than that. Word went out over the coms a few moments ago. They know you're here, and have been shutting down systems faster than I can infiltrate. Expect heavy resistance. Good luck to ya's!"

"Thanks Sand." Vera stated, as they made their way to the back of the passenger car.

"Name's Gregory. Don't mention it. Just make it out safe 'kay?"

Weavel pried the door open while Vera leaned over shot out a few ceiling turrets. Even the mag-lev tunnel was armed to the teeth. They jumped out of the train and ran the twenty yards to the maintenance hatch. Weavel covered her as she scanned through lines of code. Angseth smiled with satisfaction as the door popped open. She then leaned to the side, allowing Weavel to fire past her shoulder at a few ceiling mounted turrets within. He stepped past her, giving her cover to fall into step behind him. She crawled through the hatch, which spilled them into another hall. Weavel scanned the area, then reported all was clear. Two steps into the hall and Vera finally noticed that the two of them were working as a unit. As if they had always been partnered with each other. They instinctively knew of the others position and movements, and then adapted to accommodate. Not even Nevada worked this well with her, probably because both she and her mate were so bull-headed in their own way. If they made it out, she wouldn't mind having Weavel around for future missions.

_"It bothers me that there are no people here,"_ Weavel commented.

"I can think of a few reasons for that." she whispered over the com. "The first being that these areas are used to test out new battle strategies in a controlled environment, and aren't usually manned until there is an exercise. The second, is perhaps they didn't want a repeat of what happened on Rovien, and purposefully left these halls empty." She checked her maps. "Or a third reason. Maybe being so far underground has messed with my GPS. The map says there should be an elevator shaft here."

Weavel continued up the hall and made a quick peek around the corner before darting back. He gave another all clear, and this time Angseth took the lead. So far they had met no sentient resistance, and that worried her. She felt that they were being funneled with only ceiling turrets as token resistance. Usually there would be a task force or two that would intercept any intruders that tried to penetrate this deeply into the compound. Weavel kept close to her back, covering as needed. Angseth didn't really know her way around the training rooms, but Sand had really been a big help in getting maps of the area. The halls here were dirty and crowded. Small rooms opened to either side of them, while bits and pieces of odd alien technology lay strewn on the floor or blown to pieces. Plenty of room and time to spring an ambush. Sand hadn't covered all the ins and outs of the training grounds, but the maps were correct in leading them to an elevator shaft. Maybe she had misread them earlier.

Angseth felt her hackles rise when a cackle of interference went over her com. For a moment, her line seemed to fizzle out. She stopped, and leaned against a side wall, taking cover until she could figure out what happened. There was a short list of things that could cause a sound like that, and she wasn't going anywhere until she figured out what it was. "Weavel?" She ventured after a moment.

He didn't respond, but fell into a defensive position along with her.

"Don't bother Vera," a familiar baritone sounded over the line.

Angseth felt her throat grow dry. Her heart pounded hard in her chest. Not to be outdone, her stomach tightened up. She knew that voice. That voice had commanded her for the past twenty years, guided her through training, and came to her aid more times than she could count. Her grip grew weak on her rifle as she responded. "Admiral Mizzen."

"I've intercepted your com line. I knew you would notice. I wanted to speak to you, in an effort to dissuade you from continuing any further."

"I appreciate your straightforwardness." she couldn't keep the waver and fear out of her voice. Mizzen had never been one to waste time. Even in the light of her mission, she still respected and admired him. For all intents and purposes, he was like her father. He had helped her, counseled her when she felt lost, and enabled her to climb through the ranks of the ConFed Marine Corp. Her heart began to ache because of the love and respect she had always had for him. Respect that now had been twisted and forced to go against his orders, and possibly even against him. If she were anywhere else but the Pentacle, she would be turning to him for help.

"I know your mind is made up," Admiral Mizzen spoke, his deep voice reverberating in her mind, against her skull and teeth. "I recommend you stop this madness now. Surrender and I'll even let your Pirate friend go."

"I can't do that." She breathed. She had so many questions for her Admiral, and well, now was as good of a time as any to ask them.

"Why Vera? You have control over your own actions. Surrender."

"Why did you take Samus?"

Mizzen hesitated for a moment before answering. "Vera, when you surrender, all will be made clear."

Angseth drew a deep breath, but even that couldn't keep the waver of tears at bay. "Please, tell me why you took Samus."

"Samus is none of your concern Angseth. Your talents far outweigh hers at the moment. I know of your Phazon…_problem_…and I am willing to cover that up for you as well. Surrender now." His voice was steadily becoming more harsh.

"I can't." Even in the small, enclosed space of her helmet, her voice sounded small

"Vera." he warned.

"I'm scared." her voice shook and cracked.

"Its easy Vera. Simply put down the rifle, and lay flat on your stomach."

"You will kill me, and Weavel too."

"I will send doctors to help you, just like that time on Phadon V."

"Please don't remind me." she knew that he would try to pull some shit like this. "Please Admiral." Just when she thought that those ghosts had been dead and buried, here he was digging them up again. The Phazon wasn't making her emotions any easier to control.

"That was the second time I came to your aid. You lost your temper and almost destroyed an entire colony. Not the first time you've had blood on your hands…"

"Please Admiral, stop."

"If only I had known then that you had such a harsh reaction to stimulants. But it's off your record now." His voice continued, smooth and guiding. A voice that had comforted her through many trials. "Do you really want that to become public knowledge? Would you want your beloved Lieutenant Briar to know of all the innocents you killed,"

"THAT WASN'T JUST ME!"

Weavel didn't need a com line to hear her shout. He had no idea what kind of conversation was going on in that helmet of hers, but she needed to end it now.

"Temper Vera." Admiral Mizzen said softly, calmly. "Remember, you have many pills and exercises for that. I made sure of it."

"What does any of this have to do with Samus?! Why did you take her?! She has nothing to do with me!"

"That woman has everything and nothing to do with you Angseth. I always knew that you admired her, but what has she done to repay you? Not even so much as an inquiry into your health. And here you are, ready to sacrifice your career and your life for her."

Angseth leaned her full weight against the wall, tears streaking down her face. If she had been given a room full of renegade gorgons to fight, she would have gladly taken that option over hearing these words from her Admiral.

"Come now, my Orchid. Surrender and put all this foolishness behind you. I still have your office cleaned and secure next to mine."

Weavel nervously glanced up the hall. They needed to move before time ran out, or someone found them.

Vera burst into full-on sobs when she heard his pet name for her. She fought against the tears until she could speak. "Twenty years Mizzen."

"Vera,"

"Twenty. Years. I gave everything to you. I gave you my life, my hopes, my dreams, and I fought for you, I fought so hard just to see you happy."

"You are not yourself-"

"SHUT UP AND LISTEN TO ME!" Anger, that was what she needed to beat back the tears and sobs. Anger and Phazon. "Yes, I killed innocents! Yes I destroyed a lot of property, yes I admit that I was the most irresponsible member of your inner circle for the longest time, but I did it all for YOU! Not Samus, not Briar, but YOU! I loved you with all my heart! I loved you with every fiber of my being! I admit to the Phadon V massacre! I admit to releasing the atmospheric pressure on the Richmond to contain a riot!-"

Weavel's attention was stolen at this confession. _"That was __**you**__?"_

Angseth went on. "And so many other horrible acts that would have landed me in GulagIX years ago! But you know what Mizzen? All of those orders had your signature on them! And now, after all the shit I've been through at your command, you take the only thing in this universe that has inspired me to keep on living! I don't care what your reasons are, I don't care what kind of deals you had set up on the side! This is my wish, and by the Goddess the only reason you haven't come down here personally to deal with me is because you are scared shitless over the fact that I am far stronger than you can hope to control!" There, that felt better now that it was out. "You want me to stop, Admiral, then you had better come and get me yourself. Send down several armies of Marines, all the tanks, power-armors, anti-personal sleds and Damliers you have stowed away up there. Better send them all because I will tear down and destroy every last single one of them. If I must have the blood of my own people on my hands, then by the Goddess I will have it because of my own free will. And when I am done, and my body is broken and splattered across these walls, Samus will have her way with you. Because I am not leaving this compound without her."

Admiral Mizzen was quiet, listening to Angseth's ragged breath and tear filled screams over the com line. After her breathing slowed he spoke. "I have no choice then…you must die Vera."

"Bring it!"

"Farewell my Orc-"

Before he could finish, Angseth reached up and disconnected the signal line. She then ran through her lines of code and blocked Mizzen from contacting her. That done, she reset her com interface, creating what amounted to a two-way between herself and Weavel.

Angseth picked up her rifle again, and now recharged with a fresh head of anger, began tromping down the halls once more. After yelling at Admiral Mizzen, she was _livid_. Her body was projecting radiation like a leaking core. All Weavel could do was follow her, and hope she didn't turn that anger on him. Vera paused for a moment, fists balled and shoulders shaking. Her paldrons heaved with silent sobs and even a cyborg knew that when the female of any species was this upset, the best course of action was to just smile, nod, and do anything they asked.

They rounded the last corner, and before them was the elevator. Sand had managed to gain control of the system before his presence faded, and now the door stood open, awaiting its passengers. Angseth limped along, leaving Weavel to wonder if she wanted to be caught if she fell.

* * *

Admiral Mizzen heard the end of his com cackle and then go dead. He honestly didn't think that Angseth would have the balls to hang up on him, but at this point he couldn't afford to put anything past her. His assumption had been correct. She and her pirate friend were heading straight for Vault 7. In any other circumstance he would have found the situation laughable. Only two people to take on an army of nearly invincible soldiers, but they had made it through the Umbra, as well as managed to get quite close to their final goal.

Yet even now he regretted the loss of one of his finest pawns. He felt nothing more for her, only that she was a tool that had broken and could no longer be repaired. Mizzen supposed that she was down there crying now, sobbing in her silent way that shook her body and made gallons of tears stream down her cheeks. She always thought that no one could see her, or even noticed, but Mizzen could spot it a mile away. Her crying never ceased to infuriate him.

He tapped his hoof against the hard floor thoughtfully. He couldn't afford to underestimate Angseth, after all, that was why he had hired her in the first place. She was angry at him, good. She hadn't dismissed him, she still felt passionately enough about him to be angry, which meant that she still had feelings for him. Feelings that he could use to his advantage. It would be useless to throw precious ground troops at her, she would just go right through them. Likewise with any other resistance, with the possible exception of a high-grade telepath. In the end, the only result would be huge repair bills. The Pentacle's standard defensive systems were offline due to an interesting bug that had developed. By the pattern of the hack, Mizzen knew a short list of "bugs" capable of doing the work. Angseth was a fighter, and she would conquer most things he set before her, but her emotions…she had always been a slave to those.

Admiral Mizzen's hoof stopped tapping, then rested flat on the floor. "Have our newest projects been fed yet?"

An officer to his right referenced his datapad. "No sir. They are scheduled a feeding once loaded on the drop ships, to keep them docile during transport."

The Admiral's face registered no expression. "Release ten class fives, five class threes, and a class two into the halls of the Vault."

"Sir, we still have staff in the Vault,"

Mizzen fixed his purple eyes on the officer. "After what I heard from Rovien, I don't want to take any chances. They are expendable."

The officer didn't question, only authorized the order. "Yes sir."

* * *

Weavel boarded the elevator after Angseth. Her shouting match with Admiral Mizzen still rang in her mind and ears. He had offered both of them a possible way out. To surrender and live, or venture deep into the Vault. Vera couldn't afford to do either. They had come too far to turn back now, and yet her body demanded rest. Mizzens words hurt, and she felt alone. She managed to shake those thoughts away. Of course she wasn't alone in this mission. Weavel was here with her, and her crew and mate were counting on them to pull through. She looked around her surroundings, switching her focus to the present.

The elevator had two doors, one where they had entered, and another directly in front of them. They stood back to back, covering both entrances. Before either of them could protest, the doors closed, and the elevator began to descend, carrying their bodies further down into the crust of AnubusIV. The only sounds were that of Angseth's heavy breathing, and the steady rush of air as the cab continued down. Weavel never felt so mechanical as he did while listening to another creature breathe.

He felt Angseth lean against his back. He wasn't sure if she was seeking comfort, or perhaps about to pass out. The cyborg didn't need to scan or listen to any comline to know the extent of the anxiety that Angseth was currently under. The way her body shuddered against his back, causing her armor to rattle and scrape against his own external plating made that lovely emotional inhibitor work overtime.

Angseth felt that it wasn't the fear or anticipation of the coming battle, or even their time limit that caused her the most stress. It was the damned _smell._ She had never encountered any records or reports of Metroids having a smell, but by either fluke or Phazon interference, Metroids now had a smell to her. It wasn't an organic scent, it didn't smell like vomit, or feces. It wasn't a chemical one either, like burnt acids or sulfur. This was like a mixture of both, like burnt rubber, except with an effect on her sinuses that stopped her from lumping it into either category. The smell crawled up her nose and down her throat, burning its way through her senses. Her eyes began to water, pushing past her tears and she grit her teeth in frustration. If she wasn't spewing water out of her face for one reason, it was another. In retrospect, they didn't really need Sand to find the Vault; all she had to do was follow her nose, so to speak. The elevator smoothly braked, then stopped. The small round room felt still and heavy. Both passengers had no indication which door would open, or perhaps both at once. It felt like an eternity before the door in front of Weavel slid open, and both of them jumped to either side of the small cab, ready to cover the other and fire on potential enemies.

The hall beyond was brightly lit and clean, with tile floor instead of grating. The walls were painted white and faded to soft gray toward the floor. The ceiling was what she had come to expect from standard work areas. Blue light bars had been installed at regular intervals. Several doors opened to either side, each with a keypad on the exterior. They didn't appear to be used for containment purposes, more like office space. There was none of the artificial decay as seen in the decks above. One small detail did not escape her. "All the security turrets and defenses are offline." She whispered.

Weavel was the first to step off the elevator, covering Angseth's path. She in turn, did the same for him as they moved further up the hall. The first door on the left led to a security checkpoint. This room was where visitors and employees would be screened before entry into the Vault proper. Angseth quickly slipped inside the checkpoint booth, expecting to find a guard violently defending their territory. She located one easily enough, but didn't expect to find him already dead. She moved to step over his body, then thought better of it and moved the body aside. Didn't want to trip over him on the way out. Weavel stepped in behind her.

_"Already dead?"_ He asked. _"Friendly fire?"_

"No." Angseth said after inspecting his body. She held her rifle tighter, already on edge. "He was sucked dry."

Weavel activated the terminal. _"Looks like we're dealing with the same mess we saw on Rovien. Except this time, I'm guessing they were released on purpose."_

"The Admiral would never do that."

The cyborg turned as if fixing his gaze on her.

Vera caught her reflection in his faceplate, and looked away. "Okay, maybe he would. Either way, where are we heading?" She kept her rifle trained on the doorway and her scans active.

"_Sand wasn't able to get maps of this area. So we get what we can here."_ He scanned through a few files. _"Uploading maps now."_

Angseth waited for the confirmation in her HUD, then stopped. "Hey, hey, wait, go back. What was that?" She reached for the terminal, then scanned through the files. _"Confirmation of information packet from RVN received. Redirected to main office."_ She read aloud, and then reached for the holo keys. "I have got to read this bullshit. Cover the door please." Vera began opening files and pressing every last avenue of her coms training to hunt down the packet. "There you are you little shit." She opened it, then uploaded it to her HUD. "Weavel, see if you can download this as well."

The scan read several dates in order from earliest to latest, each with a corresponding log entry. Angseth took a moment to glance over the information.

**RVN RD: 5-763 :1:** _Received biological sample from the "Astrotle." Sample appeared to be aware and confused. Placed in stasis under heavy sedative. First round of testing to begin once sample has been prepped._

Both Angseth and Weavel exchanged glances, then read the remainder of the files quickly.

**RVN RD: 5-767: 2:** _Today's testing has resulted in three copies from the master sample. Three appears to be the threshold without compromising the structural integrity of the master copy. We had thought the copies would be humanoid in appearance, like the master, however they seem to resemble the Varia suit. Each copy is aware, yet memories of their past are scrambled and disjointed._

**RVN RD: 5-774: 3:** _Success in mind wipe trials. First generation clones are durable, and retain the originals combat instincts without any development in personality. They are easily reprogrammed for almost any task. Master sample, has recovered and further cloning will resume tomorrow._

**RVN RD: 5-792: 4:** _Second generation copies were completed today. The Master seems to have reached its limits at five first gen clones. We have created several second gen clones from the first gen collection, and mind wipes have been successful. However second gen clones appear to have more minor mutations. Our scientists will explore both the mental and physical limits of future generations._

**RVN RD: 5-809: 5**_**:**__ Eight gen is the limit. Beyond eighth gen the clones become genetically unstable. Mutations become severe after third gen, and mental capabilities __are greatly diminished. The Master has been growing immune to sedatives and has become more irate with each day. Current containment options are limited to increased sedatives and cold temperatures._

**RVN RD: 5-812: 6:** _Early testing of genetic manipulation has gone better than expected. Generations two and three have grown almost fully immune to the effects of ice. Earlier generations also show a tendency to command and utilize the lesser clones for their means. This had become helpful in the creation and instruction of battle tactics in the clones. A strong enough telepath can also control and command lesser clones. Conclusions on preliminary testing shows that if a diverse enough pool of initial "breeders" are available, then the resulting clones can be engineered for almost any task._

**RVN RD: 5-818: 7: **_The Master hasn't rested in several days. It refuses to feed and keeps demanding to see its "children." At times it will emit a very high pitched shriek that can penetrate even the most sound proof room. The clones of all generations, regardless of genetic engineering, respond to its cries. Several samples broke free of their containment and an entire batch had to be destroyed after killing three scientists._

**RVN RD: 5-819: 8:** _The Master has been moved to another lab, hopefully far enough away from the clones do any harm. Not only can they plan, but they remember. Already several small groups have broken out of containment to find "Mother," and when placed back in general population they began to communicate with the others. This has led to the development of a new procedure to separate the generations and keep them quarantined until needed. Under no circumstances should a Master Copy be allowed to come into contact with lesser generations, as the lessers will be inclined to protect and save their "Queen."_

**RVN RD: 5-822: 9: **_We are shutting the project down. Already we have lost many samples due to hive mentality, and many of our best minds too. We cannot destroy them fast enough and some of the first and second gens have figured out how to reproduce for themselves, by a process that resembles cellular mitosis. The labs have been rigged with heavy explosives. We will begin purging in twenty-four hours._

**RVN RD: 5-823: 10:** _No use. "Mother" had broken free moments after the purge began. The labs were immediately evacuated. A few others and I have stayed behind to ensure the charges explode and the labs properly sealed. Right now Mother is ordering her brood to break down the door to my office. The explosives have not been fully prepped and I lost contact with Dr. Freeman over an hour ago. To colleges, faculty and anyone audience to these logs, I warn you to take every precaution. I dread to think of these things getting loose in the Pentacle. Best of luck to you all._

"And the logs end there," Vera sighed. "Great, more of these glass freaks to deal with."

Weavel moved toward the door. _"We're wasting time. Follow the maps and lets go."_

Angseth couldn't find any reason to argue. She didn't want to think of how long Mizzen had been tinkering with Arans genetic code. If the newest batch of monstrosities were immune to ice attacks, then they were going to be resistant to other forms of attacks and defenses too. Armed with this new information, they cautiously stepped out into the hall. Aside from the lack of people, nothing seemed unusual. The Vault had been constructed for ease of movement and study. The maps said this level was composed mainly of office space. Down the hall was an elevator that would take them to an even lower level where manufacturing was based. Once there, yet another tunnel led to a secondary sub vault where the Master Copies were kept. Angseth followed the internal compass of her intuition and instinct—and of course the damn smell. Aran would be among the Master Copies.

They crept slowly forward, and eventually reached the end of the hall. If anything were to attack them, this would be the ideal location. Here the hall curved to the right and another hall branched off back to the left, creating two blind spots. Scanners were active and set on high alert, searching for any source of movement or sound. Angseth slowly advanced to the right. The elevator was at the end of this hall, roughly one hundred yards away. Now her senses flared. Her external audio picked up a noise. She followed the sound to its source, further up the hall and to the left. Angseth crouched near the wall and zoomed in her visual on the location. Weavel knelt behind her. They trained weapons and scanners in that direction. After a moment of tense silence, they discovered the source of the noise. An automatic door kept trying to close, but was caught on someone's boot.

"The elevator is in that direction isn't it?" Vera asked, already knowing the answer.

"_Yes, at the end of this hall."_ His voice sounded hollow in her helmet.

"Feels like the plot of some bad horror movie." Angseth pushed back all of her Phazon bravado and somehow managed to forget the acid scent in her nose. Carefully she crept further down the hall. She grew closer to the door. Each thump the automatic door made on the boot caused what little hair was left on her head to stand up a little more. She paused at the thumping door, both because her curiosity had gotten the better of her, and because it was a room that needed to be checked. The boot was a nice one. Supportive ribbing along the sides, and advanced tread on the bottom. It seemed to have been bent or even folded at an odd angle. By its construction, it didn't belong to a human. Vera swallowed the lump in her throat, trying to keep her fear in check. The door slid closed again, bounced off the toe of the boot, and hissed open once more. Keeping her rifle ready, she scanned the small room.

Whoever and whatever it was, seemed to have exploded. Intestines and other internal organs were smeared across the computer terminals. Blood pooled and collected on areas of the floor. Small scraps of clothing were strewn around the room, soaked in dark blue blood. Odd marks on the floor led her to believe that something had scrambled through it. The foot at the door lay at a strange angle without a leg attached to it. Slumped against another terminal was the disemboweled torso of some unfortunate office worker. She had seen plenty of carnage before, and by instinct she scanned the body. Every Confederate soldier, officer, and scientist had a chip implanted under their skin in place of dog tags. It made identification of the dead easier in light of all the nasty ways one could be killed in space. She scanned the body, and received a name.

_Science Officer Therk…I know you. You served on the Mabus last term. Serec loved your work._ Vera felt compelled to investigate further. She had enjoyed Therks company. He was always ready with a smile and pictures of his children. She stepped in closer.

In the thickest part of the body, Vera thought she saw something pulsate and move. As her brain began to fill in details, she could make out a face pushing forth from the carcass. Golden red jaws unhinged and folded open. _Oh shit!_ Vera gasped, and stepped backward to escape, but stumbled over Weavel who had come to see the freak show for himself. The beast shrieked. The sound was unlike anything she had ever encountered. It was the high-pitched cry of a Metroid with an undertone that was distinctly human. It was the sound of a woman caught between insanity and sorrow. The sound caused her instincts to surge, and by reflex, she fired. Half a dozen others answered the scream, filling the halls with piercing cries and wails. Angseth scrambled away from the door as the thing leapt from the corpse toward her throat. The clone slipped on the bloodied floor and slammed into the closing door before letting out another shriek followed by a series of calls that sounded vaguely like insane laughter.

"RUN!" Angseth screamed then charged toward the elevator. Weavel stumbled out of her way, and looked past her toward the other end of the hall. The formerly blank walls and ceiling were now covered in scampering golden glass creatures, spilling out of the offices and covered in varying degrees of gore. Some bore a resemblance to the Varia suit, and others were multi-armed mutations. Some had two glowing red eyes, some bore three. Almost all had fangs and talons bared, ready for their next meal. He didn't need to question her command; Angseth was already halfway down the hall and closing the distance between herself and the elevator. As Weavel ran, he scanned the panel to activate the door. The elevator opened, revealing two more clones feasting on another pile of offal.

Vera roared, and snapped her Battlehammer open. Weavel didn't think that he would be so happy to see the burning bright blue blade. Bring on the radiation, bring on the death it stood for. Angseth swung at the closest to her, leaving a glowing blue arc in the air. It stood from the floor, screeching and lifting four arms to attack. Angseth put all of the force she could muster into the swing, and felt her balance slip, yet the blade connected solidly. As soon as the blade touched the beast, iridescent cracks exploded across its hard mutated surface. The cracks gave way to dead black blight that soon covered its body. Weavel jumped in behind her. As he leapt into the elevator, his own Battlehammer found the cranium of the one on the left. The clones exploded in clouds of ash. He spun his torso around, and stood guard as the doors slowly closed. Angseth lost her footing with her back swing and slipped on a chunk of intestine. Her body plowed through the ash and gore, then slammed into the rear wall of the elevator, coming to rest on her hands and knees. The door closed a breath before the other clones reached them. For a moment, each of them waited breathlessly and prayed silently to whatever gods they held dear that the doors would hold.

The noise and shrieks outside in the hall ceased. Reluctantly, Weavel took a second to reset his scans and targeting systems, then selected their floor. "Private?" He asked, turned toward her.

Angseth didn't move, she remained on her hands and knees, leaning on the wall for support. Her gaze was permanently fixed on the organs under her hands. Blood was one thing, She could tolerate blood, but these were _pieces._ Chunks of someone she probably knew, trained, praised and sent off knowing that she had done her best to ensure their safety in this universe. Vera tried to distance herself, find comfort in some kind of meditative practice or calm, or other knowledge. Thoughts of sunset beaches or resting in Nevada's arms weren't helping much this time. She hadn't felt this helpless in so long, not since Aether. Her mind then fixed on one memory, the last memory she needed right now.

Weavel stood silent as the elevator traveled downward. He hoped Angseth hadn't gotten hurt. She remained where she had fallen. He could hear her mumbling something that at first he couldn't make out. He drew closer, tuning his sensors in on her breathing.

"…won't stop crying…why won't Baker stop crying?…he won't stop…doesn't he know that the enemy can hear him?…Baker just won't stop…"

Weavel knelt and grabbed her shoulders. _"Don't you dare start this shit now."_ He jerked her to her knees, then shook her once. Her head snapped back, then forward again. _"Not __**now**__! Keep your damned head on straight! Do you hear me?"_

"Exetor said to-"

Weavel stood, grabbing the chest plate of her suit, then slammed her firmly into the wall, lifting her from the floor. _"Keep it together Private."_

"Need…Phazon…"

He slammed her again. _"You aren't allowed!"_ again. _"To lose your shit!"_ Another firm slam. _"You aren't allowed to lose your shit, you fraking addict, until I SAY SO!"_ he slammed her one last time, causing the wall to dent and bulge. _"Not until I say so. Do you understand, Angseth?!"_

She became quiet, her head rolled forward and for a moment Weavel thought he had overdone it. After a moment her left hand lifted, then rested on top of his. "I'm sorry Weavel."

"_Do that shit again while I'm down here and I will kill you myself."_

The words hit harshly. More than anything, they reminded her that Weavel was a hardened killer, no matter how tame she thought him to be. As if reacting to her emotions, the Phazon surged through her veins, settling her anxiety and pushing her memories to the rear of her consciousness, leaving only the present, her focus, and the damn acidic smell of the clones.

Weavel noticed her nose wrinkle for the third time. _"You can smell them?"_

"Yes." she answered weakly. "Ever since Rovien."

"_Musty? Like old hide?"_

"More like a chemical fire."

"_Interesting."_ he still held her suspended off the floor, almost as if he were uncertain what she would do.

"You can put me down now Weavel." she tried to sound as convincing as her hoarse voice could muster.

Weavel was still, almost as if all of his joints had frozen.

Angseth let go of his wrist, and instead reached out toward his chest. Her hand grazed the metal, sending blue sparks arching over the olive gray surface. The Phazon flickered over his circuits and caressed his organic components, tasting him. His head dropped and rolled to the side, almost as if he were shuddering. Vera knew that cyborgs couldn't shudder, well, at least not battle-class borgs like him. She pulled her hand away, unsure of why she had done that, yet some part of her felt satisfied.

Weavel let go, allowing her body to drop the few inches to the floor. She steadied herself and leaned against the wall, looking up at his yellow reflective visor. She saw her own image, but now her eyes burned with their own light, quite obvious even outside her visor. His arm bent and he stepped in closer. Vera grew tense as he stood over her, one hand braced on either side of her head. Her breath quickened along with her heart rate. After a moment of silence he moved his right hand to the underside her helmet, unhooking the clasp and pulling it free. Her heart dropped to her stomach in a way that had nothing to do with the elevators downward movement. With his left hand he traced a line down her naked cheek. Angseth closed her eyes and savored the sensation of cold steel against her hot skin. She craved that small comfort. It soothed her and caused her instincts to sharpen. Even so, her stomach spoke louder than her emotions. She expected nausea to hit her first, but there was only the taste of bile and iron in the back of her throat. She had never been attracted to hardware before, well, at least nothing that wasn't a tool or weapon. Goddess knew that she would drool over a new fighter or tank. Weavel was different. There was a soul trapped inside all of the metal and plastic. Someone who wasn't an AI and still struggled to retain what was left of his humanity. Was humanity even the right word? He spoke, pulling her out of her thoughts. _"When we get out of here, we can finish this."_

"Weavel,"

"_Quiet."_ he pushed her helmet back into her hand. Her fingers slowly closed around the outside edge. _"I've already said too much."_ He stepped away.

They stood for another tense moment before the elevator began to slow. Between her heart slamming away in her chest and the nausea, she felt ready to collapse again. Angseth pushed the helmet back on, and then picked a path through the remains of her fellow marines. Weavel stood before the door, and extended his Battlehammer. It might have just been a play of light, or even her own vision starting to go, but she could almost make out glowing blue streaks, almost like veins inside the weapons normally yellow surface. Angseth stepped to his side, and stood facing the door. She moved her rifle to her opposite shoulder and made ready to train it on anything that came close. The maps indicated that on the other side of the door would be a long room, labeled only as a storage facility. They would need to cross the room to reach the door that would lead to the sub vault where the master copies were kept. So far, it was quiet. Both hoped that the creatures upstairs wouldn't find a way down.

"_How many do you think there are?"_ Weavel asked.

"Does it even matter? In the entire history of battle strategies and tactics, this has got to be the worst idea ever." Angseth breathed. "All we can do is be on our guard."

The elevator doors opened. To both passengers the space of two seconds felt like two years. Senses heightened and weapons ready, they stood ready for any amount of monstrosities…anything except an empty storage hall.

"_What?"_ Weavel scanned the hall. Plain concrete floor with drainage holes, lined with storage units that looked eerily like escape or cryo capsules. The air was much colder here, and in the distance he could feel the rumble of refrigeration units. By the way Angseth's nose was wrinkling up, she still smelled them nearby. The room did have dim lighting. Perhaps the clones broke a few light bars in their escape?

"You first." Angseth said.

Weavel stepped into the room, and sensed her warm up a charge shot behind him. They took five steps into the hall when the elevator shut behind them. It was only a mild hiss of pressure, but still enough to set him on edge and cause the emotional inhibitor to kick in again. From this point they could see the door leading to the vault. His scanners suddenly picked up something, and he snapped his attention upward to the opposite end of the hall.

There was a clone, or at least he hoped it was, standing in their path roughly twenty yards away. It appeared to be humanoid enough, save for the gold glass appearance of the Varia suit. Years of survival and fighting instinct rose up inside him. He knew that this wasn't Aran. But there was an intelligence behind those cold red eyes that caused him alarm. This thing was smart. It was self aware and calculating. It studied them even as they studied it. It held its arm cannon at the ready, but not charging a shot, not just yet. Weavel knew this tactic, he had used it several times in the past himself. It was luring them in. The only ways out of the room were the elevator behind them, and the large vault door before them. Going back was not an option. Forward was the only choice they had. And forward was just where this thing wanted them.

The light in the room seemed to shift, and that caused Angseth to go on alert as well. It didn't flicker like a spent bulb, or even fade out. The light just _moved._ All around her she could smell them, but save for the one taunting her at the end of the hall, there was no trace of the clones. She took her focus from the bait, and instead scanned the room. The light shifted again, this time drawing her attention to the floor. The floor had a mottled appearance. Some areas were covered in patches of light, and others in deep shadow, almost like the reflection of amber colored water.

Very slowly she turned her head upward. She had doubts that all of the lighting in the room had been destroyed. Her senses began to burn as she studied the ceiling. Covering the entire surface of the ceiling were dozens of gold glass bodies, interlocked in each other, backlit by fully intact light bars in the ceiling. The light passed through their bodies, outlining details of internal organs and bone structure. All eyes and senses were locked on Weavel and Angseth. The creatures were patient, as quiet as dust, waiting for the command to attack.

"Weavel…"

"_It's a trap. I know."_

The clone at the end of the hall raised its arm cannon high. Jaws dropped open from the red glass-like head. For a moment Angseth could register a hiss of air before the sound of a woman's laughter filled the still room. The laughter gradually grew in volume, becoming increasingly higher in pitch, before finally evolving into a shriek, a scream straight from the depths of deepest sorrow and grief. The call was answered by numerous cries from the ceiling.

"_Move! Now!"_ Weavel shouted. They charged ahead as the clones began raining down around them. Angseth fired off a shot at the first clone, and missed, badly. That caused frustration and panic to blind her. After hitting the ground, the clones rushed forward as one. Phazon surged through her again, drowning her senses. Nothing else existed in her mind save for the destruction of all these vile abominations blocking her path. She exchanged the rifle for her Battlehammer, as she did, something inside her seemed to tear. Searing pain ripped through her side, stealing the breath from her lungs. For a moment adrenaline took the brunt of the pain from her, but she knew that if she survived this onslaught, she would be in serious need of a medic.

Weavel saw her stumble and heard her shout over the com. He flanked her, complementing her movements. _"Can you make it Private?"_

"YES!" Vera screamed. "This is not going to be my last battle!" she summoned up what was left of her strength and swung. Her Battlehammer tore through the clones around her. Shrieks and screams pierced the air. Weavel tore through others behind her, finishing her kills as needed. They moved with grace and fluidity, their attacks and form like a dance. They were killers, they were warriors, they were lovers, leaving only ash and death in their wake. Weavel kept close to her back, and she in turn covered his.

The first three clones fell easily. Screams and ash surged through the air and their senses. Weavel set Angseth up for another charge. The clones suddenly changed their tactics. The first clone that had lured them in emitted a series of chirps and yells, commanding the others. _These things are the perfect weapons. They learn and adapt quickly._ Vera changed her approach slightly. She had been party to many cases of crowd control in the past. She was willing to bet her experience against this things intellect. Weavel read her body language and movements, then altered his own to compensate. They cut down two more, spreading more ash through the air. Angseth pushed forward, gagging on the thick scent of the clones. If they could just reach the opposite hall, then they could create a more fortified position.

"_Take cover!"_ Weavel shouted. Angseth ducked as he tossed a few sticky mines into the center of the room.

Wonder where he got those…

The explosion didn't injure the clones, but it did deter them slightly. A moment was all she needed to gain more control. Vera used this moment to charge ahead while the clones recovered from the blast. She could hear and feel Weavel behind her, along with more high-pitched screams and calls. Oh they were pissed, and so was their commander. If possible she would dispatch the smart one. Get rid of the ringleader, and the others would be disoriented.

The door was now less than twenty paces away, and every inch of the distance was covered in clones. Vera ignored the claws, fangs, and golden glass bodies. They pressed in close, energy blasts rocked her armor and body. Angseth could see fangs and spittle as they chewed on her helmet, trying to loosen her from her metal shell. She lost her footing and slammed into the bodies around her. Hands, claws, and talons attacked her, piercing the joints in her armor and finding flesh. They leached power from her armor and drew Phazon from her body. Hands grabbed her arms and pulled her feet from under her. Dimly she could feel a few tugging on her legs and arms, each excited and eager to get away with their own share of the meal. Angseth struggled to swing her Battlehammer, but they pinned her before she could move. So many, so close, her body unable to move. Her anger and frustration grew, fueled by panic and fear—and oh the smell! Disgusting, foul, diseased and _wrong._ The Phazon in her veins screamed for blood, wanted to delight in mindless slaughter. It was a promise of power, the most potent drug she had ever encountered. All she would need to do was just let go. Stop struggling and allow the Phazon to take over. It would know what to do. It had access to the most primitive and violent part of her. With the press of bodies and smell of death in the air, Vera almost embraced the sick yet sweet rush.

A hand pressed against the center of her back. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Weavel swing his Battlehammer. He steadily chopped away at their hands and arms. Angseth wrested her body free of the remaining hands and charged forward once more. She felt Weavel plant his foot in her lower back and thrust her forward toward the door. She stumbled and another clone caught her, then buried fangs into her neck and shoulder. A burning orange blade suddenly passed over her shoulder and cut the clone's head in two. Vera shoved the body aside and pushed forward. Foot by foot they cleared the distance through the mass of bodies. With sizable pieces of their kin falling to the ground, this caused the others to fall back and regroup. Vera knew that any moment now their battle tactics would change, and took this opportunity to lunge ahead and reach for the keypad on the door.

"_Hurry up, they're planning something!"_ Weavel shouted. He stood with his back pressed to hers and facing the horde. The leader chirped and shrieked in different tones. The others grouped accordingly.

"I'm hurrying!" Angseth scanned the lock then quickly input the code Sand had given her. She felt a sudden burn of plasma fire and weight of bodies as they rushed up and crashed against the two of them like some massive gold and red sentient gel. Vera reached blindly for something to brace herself against and found the door crank. She held tightly to the crank as they pulled away in a tidal flow. Shrieks and chirps filled her ears and sinuses, causing her mind to ring and her eyes to water. Her body felt weak and distant. The pain in her side was now screaming as loud as the clones in the room, it was soon joined by her neck and knee joint. Weavel's comforting and secure weight left her back, leaving her exposed by the door. Still clinging to the crank, she reached over and hit the "accept" key.

Mechanisms in the walls activated and the door began to slowly open. She had no idea what it was made out of, but if it took this long to open, then Admiral Mizzen indeed wasn't taking any chances with these things. Vera stumbled through doorway as soon as a gap sufficient enough for her body had opened. She gained her footing on the opposite side, then spun around. The bastards were trying to follow her through the gap. Angseth roared, the sound ripped out of her lungs as she attacked, slicing the nearest clone in two. She hit the emergency stop switch on this side of the door and began killing the creatures as they oozed through the gap. The Phazon in her blood surged forth with enough pressure and ferocity to make her veins burn. She screamed another battle cry and attacked the nearest abomination. The clone shattered, smearing ash along the length of her Battlehammer. She looked up and felt rising panic and fear in her breast when she didn't see Weavel amidst the crunch of golden bodies.

"Wea-"

An olive gray arm broke through, reaching for her.

_By the gods, they're feeding on him!_

The clones at the door turned and became occupied by this morsel, for the moment ignoring the much larger threat behind them.

_Weavel,_ She stepped forward, the burn in her veins became something else. She raised her Battlehammer, ready to strike. _Weavel!_ She could taste the Phazon on her tongue and feel it buzz in her teeth. This time there was no thought, only action. It felt satisfying, no, _arousing_ to let herself become engulfed, enflamed, and embraced by the Phazon. Brilliant blue murderous bliss welled from her guts and washed away her inhibitions as if they were made of fragile sand. The golden bodies before her were like fire, and what she felt moving through her could only be described as cold, clean water. Deep water, so dark no light could penetrate, and so heavy it would crush all who ventured near. This was power. Power so complete, pure, and overwhelming.

Her body moved without thought, caught between instinct and dance. It felt like ritualized slaughter, or perhaps even making love. Just something she already knew how to do without being taught. Somewhere in between the rush and the surge of power, the vague sensation of solid pieces within her body quietly crumbling away. Four clones around her exploded before the Battlehammer even came near them. The blade passed smoothly through clouds of ash when it made contact with the next one.

_Further...Deeper…More..._

Ash was not what she wanted. She wanted blood, she wanted suffering, wanted to hear the pain of others drown in the blue waters of her hate. The energy left her body in waves and ripples, arching over the floor and filling the air with mist. Weavel's hand extended out of the golden mass toward the keypad. If he touched it, the door would close, locking him inside the room with the clones. Vera leaned toward him and with her left hand she reached for Weavel's outstretched limb. Her fingers closed around his, and the Phazon jumped from her body and into his own. It traveled along the exterior of his armor and used him as a conduit, destroying the creatures feeding from his power cells. Angseth rocked backward, pulling Weavel toward the open gap and out of the ashes, she stumbled over her own feet and fell. Weavel rushed forward and caught her, stepping through the doorway. He spun, tapped the keypad, and the door rumbled shut once more, trapping a few bodies in the seam that had tried to get through.

Angseth continued to stumble backward, then caught herself on a wall. The rush was fading, and already her body needed more Phazon. She wanted to bring back the sensation of weightlessness and power absolute. Instead her stomach churned and she rushed to pull her helmet off. Weavel leaned on the opposite wall as Angseth began to retch. He watched silently as she first expelled clear fluid, and then red. Angseth turned her back toward him, and continued to dry heave for a few more moments. Every last muscle in her torso, from her gut to her spine, cried out. She wanted to scream, and cry, and most of all just rest. Vera leaned against the wall and coughed. More things moved inside her, complaining and aching until they found another place to rest. Once the pain subsided, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Weavel checked his battery life and other status charts while she recovered. On the other side of the massive door, they could hear the clones pounding and clawing away. This door was thick, and wouldn't come down easy.

"Did I ever tell you how much I hate puking?" Vera gasped before locking her helmet back down.

"_Once or twice."_ his batteries were low, but not as low as they should have been. Come to think of it, he felt a little more invigorated, almost like an adrenaline rush…that couldn't be it. He hadn't had the proper glands to create adrenaline in years…unless.

There was one scan he hadn't run. He quickly activated it and it came back positive. He stood staring at the results trying to understand and comprehend what had been displayed before him. He had been infected with Phazon. How that was possible he didn't even want to argue the logistics of. He pushed that information aside, vowing deal with it later. _"We have forty-five minutes left."_

"Then lets go." Angseth searched the dark hall around them. It was a large tunnel, big enough for heavy equipment. Tracks ran along the floor and led into equipment storage bays along the sides of the tunnel. Every ten yards or so lights had been installed on either side. The result was a kind of eerie twilight that created shadows out of nothing. She checked her scans and hissed. "My navigation is out."

Weavel took point. Behind them the beating and scraping intensified. He had faith in that door, but only for so long_. "We go straight. Its just one long hall here. I think they released those on purpose. They underestimated us."_ Behind him he heard Angseth trip and stumble again. _"What's wrong now?"_

"Phazon."

He snapped around. _"What?"_

"I need Phazon." She said while picking herself up. "I can't think, can't focus, can't-"

Weavel's hand suddenly darted out and slapped her across the side of her helmet. As predicted her anger flared. "There's your Phazon. Happy now addict?"

Angseth stumbled back into the wall. Once again she reached up and caught the edge of her helmet. She pulled it off and dropped it to the ground. He expected her to scream, or insult him. Instead he watched in fear as a slow smile spread over her lips. "Feels like rain…Rain moving over my skin."

_She is losing it._ Weavel stated to himself. _This far underground and in enemy territory, and her mind is completely consumed by the Phazon._

Angseth began to move forward, using the wall for support. Weavel stopped her.

"Where the hell do you think you're going without your helmet?"

She didn't look back, and didn't look up. "I don't need it. I can smell them. The helmet is getting in my way." She pushed away from the wall and began walking confidently to the other end of the hall.

Weavel held back for a moment. Forty minutes left now. Twenty paces further there was a door that would take them to the freight elevator that Sand had told them about. Every last instinct that could still exist in his metal hull was telling him to take the elevator out. Angseth reached the door, looked up at it, then laughed.

"Damn. I should have put us down closer like Sand said. Would have saved us a lot of trouble wouldn't it?" she rested her hand on the door. For a moment Weavel thought she was going to go through it, He wanted her to go. Maybe he would pick her up and hold a few medics at gunpoint until they fixed her. She instead turned and began limping down the hall once more, toward uncertain fate.

_The woman is determined, I'll give her that._ Weavel thought as he began to follow her. He caught up to her in no time, and together they reached the end of the tunnel. The clones pounding had become distant noise, like static. At the end of the hall was another huge vault door. Sealed up even more tightly than the one they had just passed through. Angseth searched until she found an access panel. More numbers and codes she couldn't even pretend to know the combination to. Weavel stood back, quietly observing. Her fingers hovered over the keypad for a moment. She heaved a sigh. "Screw it," she said, placing her hand over the whole panel. "I think I'm getting the hang of this."

Angseth closed her eyes and focused on her palm. She just needed one emotion. One little emotion would bring the Phazon to the fore of her consciousness. Ah, here we are, _Frustration._ That would do nicely. Instead of letting that emotion run wild all over her body, she would focus all of her energy into one thing. The pattering rain sensation over her skin stopped, and seemed to concentrate on her right arm. _These cybernetics are going to be wasted by the time I get out of here._ Her skin near the connecting points on her arm burned, as if held under too much water pressure. The armor around her arm began to glow fiercely with blue inner light. The energy left her body and traveled through the door panel. She jerked her hand away and the collected Phazon slammed back into the rest of her. That stung. Once again the sensation of falling rain settled over skin. It felt like static, no-now that she thought about it she knew exactly what this sensation was. _Its like the atmosphere on Dark Aether._

The door rumbled open wide enough to allow the two of them to pass. Angseth waited for the Phazon to subside before she moved again. The room beyond was dark. No emergency lighting, not even a faint glow from computer terminals. The smell here was also worse. It had gone beyond chemical/organic sting and had become another plane of existence unto itself.

Weavel stepped aside and swept his hand before him. "_Ladies first_."


End file.
